No Safe Harbor
by PandaTurtle333
Summary: Reunited with her brother and the rest of her newfound family, Anna Wycoff has a lot to be grateful for. But, celebrations are short-lived in a world where every day is a struggle for survival. In the fifth installment of the series, the group pushes on, contending with both the dead and the living in their search for safe harbor.
1. Prologue

"Please, have a seat."  
Anna looked to the armchair positioned in front of the built-in bookshelves, center frame for the camera. When she didn't make a move to sit, Deanna did, getting comfortable on the couch just to the right of the camera.

"My name is Deanna Monroe," she introduced.

"Anna Wycoff."

"How old are you?" Deanna asked, tilting her head.

Anna furrowed her brow, trying to count back. "I think I'm twenty-six," Anna finally said, deciding it didn't really matter how old she was.

"What were you before all of this?"

"Doesn't matter," Anna said, shaking her head.

"What makes you say that?" Deanna sighed, leaning forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. "My husband, Reg, was a professor of architecture before all of this – he was able to put up the walls to keep us all safe. What he was matters," she insisted.

"My brother – Jessie – was going to school for engineering – what he was matters," Anna said, nodding her head. "What I was—" she shook her head, curling her lip in annoyance. "That hasn't helped me since it all started."

"I doubt that very much," Deanna said, her lips twitching up at the corners. "Who we were before matters. It contributes to who we've become."

Anna thought about that for a long moment. What she was had been stripped away until she was nothing. Until she could be built back up into what she'd become.

"Before, I was in college," she finally said. "I wanted to be an author. But words don't kill walkers."

"No, they don't," Deanna agreed, pressing her lips together. "You wanted to tell stories," she started, clasping her hands and pointing at Anna. "I'm willing to bet you have one hell of a story to tell now."


	2. Chapter One

Anna crouched at one end of the train car, prying a length of wood from the floor to use as a weapon. Once it was free, she wrapped her belt around the end to act as a grip. She swung it in her hand, testing the weight.

"Anna."

She looked up to find Rick hovering over her, his face set in a hard expression. He knelt down beside her, a stake in his own hand.

"What we're about to do, it's—"

"We have to do this," Anna interrupted, her grip on her weapon tightening. "You don't have to worry about me, Rick – I'm good," she assured.

The man nodded, patting her on the shoulder before he stood to return to Carl. Jessie walked over then and she got to her feet.

"I want you behind me. Let us handle these assholes," he instructed, wrapping the leather of his belt around his wrist. He'd broken the buckle and put the tines between his fingers.

Anna shook her head with a sad smile. She'd been grappling with the fact that her brother was about to see her kill people. He would see her do it mercilessly, viciously. She wasn't looking forward to the way he would look at her after. But, it had to be done to protect the people she loved.

She turned her gaze to Daryl standing watch at the door. He would see it too, but he already knew about the things she had done before – he wasn't going to tell her to stay back, let the others handle it. He knew she could fight, knew she was capable of doing what needed to be done. He knew she could kill.

"How old is he anyway?" Jessie asked, looking to the man as well.

"Really? That's what you're gonna focus on?" She sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother.

"He's older than me, Anna – that's gross," Jessie groaned.

"You're gross," she mocked.

Sobering, she heaved another sigh. She couldn't just blindside her brother with what was about to come.

"You know what's going to happen out there – what we have to do," Anna began.

He nodded. "You won't have to do anything, Anna. Just cover our backs and we'll take care of the rest," Jessie assured.

"No."

He furrowed his brow at her, confused. She opened her mouth to explain herself, to warn him, but Daryl called out.

"Got four of them pricks comin' our way," he said, backing away from the door.

"Y'all know what to do," Rick said as the group got into position on either side of the door. "Go for their eyes first. Then their throats," he reminded.

"Put your backs to the walls on either side of the car now!" A man from outside shouted.

They didn't move, bracing themselves for a fight.

Anna took a deep breath through her nose, focusing. She calmed herself, letting the fear and anticipation and regret leave her body as she exhaled. She reminded herself that they had no other choice.

Her eyes flicked over to Daryl. He nodded at her before turning to face the door again. She looked to her brother, ignoring the pang in her chest - there wasn't time to worry about how he was going to react.

She turned her attention back to the door. This was it.

Until there were footsteps from above. A door in the roof swung open and light flooded the train car. Anna flinched back, watching as a canister fell to the floor with a hard thud. She recognized it immediately. A smoke grenade.

"Move!" She and Abraham shouted simultaneously. Everyone dove out of the way just as the canister exploded.

Anna's ears were ringing as smoke filled the air and the main door of the train car slid open, four silhouettes storming in. She lunged forward, stake in hand as she aimed for where the man's face was supposed to be.

_Go for the eyes,_ she repeated to herself.

The stake hit something solid and she heard a crack of glass before she was thrown back. Her back hit the metal wall hard and she cried out in pain as she slid to the floor. The breath was knocked out of her and for a moment she couldn't move.

Blearily, she squinted to see past the smoke, coughing as it filled her lungs. She could just make out four bodies being dragged, kicking and struggling, out of the train car. The door began to slide close and she pushed herself to her feet, rushing the door.

"No!" She screamed as she slammed against it.

.

.

They shoved Daryl to his knees in front of the stainless steel draining trough. On his right was Glenn and four other men. On his left was Rick and Jessie. He looked around the warehouse, noting the naked man on one of the tables and the sound of a saw.

Daryl struggled against his captors as they zip tied his hands and feet together like a hog. He clenched his jaw over the gag in his mouth.

"Okay, hold up," called a man just behind him. He could hear the soft swing of metal through the air.

"Alright," another man said, and Daryl could hear the _shing_ of a blade being sharpened.

They were about to be murdered and bled dry and sometime after them, Anna would be next and there was not a damn thing he or anyone else could do to stop it. She'd be scared and angry and in so much pain and they would be dead. There would be no goodbyes. This was it. After everything, after finding her alive when the odds were stacked against them, they were going to die like animals.

A man at the end of the trough was the first to go, a metal bat to the back of the head then a slice to the throat. Daryl tried to tell himself that at least they'd be unconscious. They wouldn't feel anything.

The next man cried out before he, too, fell forward, and the blood slowly pooled around the drain in the center of the trough.

"Hey, guys – what were your shot counts?" Gareth asked as he strode into the room, notebook in hand.

"38," said the man with the bat.

The third man begged and pleaded, but the butchers didn't care. The fourth man just cried. And then it was Glenn's turn.

"Hey!" Gareth called before Glenn could be knocked out. "Your shot count?" He demanded of the man with the knife.

"Crap, man. I'm sorry. It was my first roundup," the man insisted.

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells," Gareth instructed, his voice harsh. "Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow."

Gareth glanced over them with unfeeling eyes as he counted.

"Four from A, four from D?" He asked, jotting down a note in his book.

"Yeah," affirmed the man with the bat.

"Hold on," Gareth called before the man could swing at Glenn. He knelt down in front of Rick and pulled the gag from his mouth. "We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it," Gareth explained. "What was in it?"

Rick said nothing.

"You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart," Gareth nodded. "Still, we'll find it. But, it's too dangerous to go out there right now." He pulled a knife from his waist and yanked Jessie over the trough, holding the blade to his eye.

Daryl admired the way Jessie seemed to ignore the knife in his face, choosing instead to glare at Gareth.

"What was in it?" he asked again. "I'm curious. And it was a big bag."

Still, Rick said nothing.

"You're really gonna let me do this?" Gareth asked.

"Well, let me take you out there," Rick offered. "I'll show you."

Gareth shook his head. "Not gonna happen. This might." He pulled Jessie closer.

"There's guns in it," Rick finally said. "AK-47, .44 Magnum, automatic weapons, night scope," he listed off squinting at the ceiling as if trying to remember everything. "There's a compound bow and a machete with a... red handle…. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you with."

Gareth chuckled at Rick's assertion and sighed, letting Jessie go. "Thanks," he said, replacing Rick's gag before climbing to his feet, turning his attention to the butchers. "You have two hours to get them on the driers. Then we go back to public face – now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown," he explained.

"Got it."

"Yes, sir."

Gareth went to turn away.

_POP! POP!_

Gareth pulled out his walkie. "Hey, Chuck?" he called.

The only answer was another gunshot. Then—

_BOOM!_

_._

_._

Anna paced back and forth in front of the door like some wild animal, her face hard. The smoke had eventually cleared out of the train car, allowing Maggie to take a headcount. The Terminus men had taken Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Jessie, and Anna could feel the rage boiling over inside her.

"Gonna need you to sit your ass down, little lady," Abraham sighed, stepping up to her.

"No," Anna said, a warning to her tone. She wasn't about to admit that being trapped in the box car at the mercy of strangers reminded her too much of last winter.

"Anna, pacing isn't goin' to bring them back any sooner," Maggie insisted earnestly.

"They ain't comin' back," Abraham sneered.

"They're coming back," Anna snapped. "And if they don't…" she turned to the door and slammed her hand against it, kicking it. "I will burn this place to the fucking ground!"

"Shut up," someone from outside grumbled.

"Look, I admire your tenacity, I really do," Abraham started. "But the fact of the matter is – ain't shit we can do—"

_POP! POP! _

"The hell was that?" Abraham asked.

_POP! _

"Another attack, maybe?" Rosita offered.

_BOOM!_

The train car trembled around them. Anna braced herself against the door. Once the shaking settled, everyone stared at her, eyes wide.

"That—that wasn't me," she stammered.


	3. Chapter Two

"What the hell is going on?" Abraham seethed, punching the door as he tried to peer through the seams of the train car.

"Someone hit them," Michonne said.

"Maybe our people got free," Sasha offered.

Eugene pushed past her, fiddling with the smoke bomb canister as he placed it against the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rosita demanded.

Anna shook her head, looking back to the task at hand – sharpening the piece of wood she had pried from the floor. She used the zipper Rick had torn off his jacket, coiling it around the wood and yanking it off until the wood came to a pointed end.

"I might be able to use this shell to compromise the door," Eugene explained. "From the sound of things, there may not be anybody left to open it."

"Eugene, I'm sorry, but shut up," Tara huffed.

"Okay."

"Hey," Carl called, approaching the others from where he stood beside Maggie and Anna. Maggie joined him. "My dad's gonna be back. They all are."

"Yeah, yeah, or that one's gonna burn the whole place down," Abraham grumbled.

Anna sneered back at him but said nothing.

"They are," Maggie insisted. "And we need to get ready to fight our way out with them when they do."

Anna turned away, slashing her piece of wood through the air. It wasn't as heavy as she would like it to be, but it would have to do.

.

.

Gareth had run to investigate the explosion. The butcher with the baseball bat started readying the dead men for further drainage while the butcher with the knife frantically paced back and forth.

"You there, Gareth?" He called into his walkie.

"He's busy," said the other.

"You smell the smoke? You hear the shots? He could be dead!" The knife wielder shouted. "The hell we doing here? The whole place could be going up."

"You went on one roundup and you blew protocol. We don't deal with security. That ain't our job. This is—"

Rick fell back just as the knife man turned to storm off. Daryl watched as Rick – now free from his restraints, snuck up behind the bald man with the bat, a stake in hand.

_Where was he hiding that thing?_ Daryl thought.

"Hey, look at me," demanded the bald man.

"What?"

Just as the man with the knife turned to face his companion, Rick sprang into action, stabbing his stake into the bald man's neck before lunging for the man with the knife who seemed to forget the weapon in his hands as Rick stabbed him through the throat, then the chest.

"Rick!" Glenn called through his gag.

Daryl looked to Jessie, who stared at what Rick had done with an unreadable expression.

"If they got problems, we got a chance," Rick explained as he cut Glenn, then Daryl, then Jessie free from their restraints.

"It sounded like a bomb," Glenn said, untying the gag from around his neck.

"Sounds like a damn war," Daryl agreed as they approached a table that held various bladed weapons. Daryl picked up the biggest knife and tested the weight in his hands.

"What the hell are these people?" Jessie asked, out of breath as he got to his feet.

"They ain't people," Daryl answered, walking over to another table which housed the naked body of Alex.

"Don't!" Rick snapped. Daryl turned to find Jessie ready to drive a knife through one of the butchers' skulls. "Let him turn," Rick instructed.

Jessie scrunched up his face in confusion but backed off. The four went to leave the killing room when Rick paused and stared into a cage. Daryl walked in first. It was a separate room, blocked off by sections of wall and bars. Inside, were the drying racks.

Daryl grimaced in disgust at the human remains dangling from hooks when it dawned on him. They really were going to die like animals. Terminus, the people, they were cannibals.

"Cross any of these people, you kill them," Rick said firmly. "Don't hesitate…. They won't."

Daryl walked over to the meat grinder, pointedly ignoring the slabs of meat waiting to go through the machine, and broke off the handle, deciding that if their escape didn't work out, at least this would be inoperable.

He glanced over at Jessie as the man picked up a machete, grimacing down at the blade.

"You good, man?" Daryl asked.

Jessie nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I'm good – as long as we get my sister," he said, turning to look Daryl in the eye. Daryl nodded back and they joined Glenn and Rick at the door.

"If we run, we can get by them," Rick said as they peered out the door window. "They're distracted."

Walkers surrounded a red storage container. Daryl could just barely hear a man screaming from within, begging for help.

"We got to let those people out," Glenn said. Daryl looked between Glenn and Rick, Rick giving Daryl a look he couldn't quite place. "That's still who we are," Glenn insisted. "It's gotta be."

Rick nodded once before pulling the door open. They filed out of the building and ran for the storage container, taking out walkers as they went. Once the immediate threat had been taken care of, Glenn pulled open the container and out of the darkness a dirty, scruffy man ran out.

"We're the same!" He shouted, falling onto Glenn before running to Rick. "We're them!"

"Back off!" Rick growled, shoving the man back.

"We're the same," the man grinned.

How long had he been in that container? They stared at him as he backed up, clutching his chest as he laughed madly until a walker tackled him to the ground.

"Come on," Rick ordered.

Glenn had other ideas as he stepped up to the man and walker and started bashing both their brains in with the baseball bat. Daryl saw the walkers coming and pulled Glenn back, hiding behind the container. The walkers, not noticing them, kept moving, blocking off their exit.

.

.

Carol pushed through the compound until she reached a room filled with candles. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight, reading the words painted on the wall. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was getting her people out of this god forsaken place. Carefully, cautiously, she made her way across the room.

"Drop your weapons and turn around," a woman commanded from behind her with the sound of the hammer on a gun pulling back. "I want to see your face."

Carol looked to the door just a few feet in front of her, saw the shadows under it and heard the snarls. Walkers were on the other side. If she got shot now, she'd have no chance, disguised or not.

"Now!" The woman shouted.

Carol dropped Daryl's crossbow first, then went to remove her rifle. Carefully, she positioned it in her hands before she turned and rained bullets on the woman. The woman dived out of the way, her gun flying from her hands. Carol rushed forward, kicking it away from the woman's outreached hand before the woman stood and tackled her to the ground.

Candles went flying as they struggled, falling to the floor, the woman trying to take Carol's rifle. Carol ripped the gun from the woman's grip and stood.

"Ah!" The woman cried as she wielded a candle stick.

She froze as Carol aimed her rifle. Light glinted off a silver bracelet around her wrist. They stared each other down, the woman dropping the candle stick and straightening. She sighed and looked around the room.

"The signs…." she began. "They were real. It was a sanctuary. People came and took this place—"

"Just tell me where—"

"And they raped and they killed," the woman seethed. "And they laughed, over weeks. But we got out and we fought and we got it back. And we heard the message! You're the butcher… or you're the cattle."

Carol saw the look in the woman's eyes – she knew it well – and she wondered if Anna had ever had that same look in her eyes. But that didn't matter right now.

"The men they pulled from that train car, where are they?" Carol demanded.

The woman said nothing, staring at her. Carol dropped the barrel of her rifle and fired into the woman's leg, the bullet exploding her thigh. The woman fell to the ground with a cry of agony.

"Where are they?" She demanded again.

The woman clutched her leg, crying and panting, and Carol could see the bracelet clearly.

_May you live all the days of your life - Jonathan Swift._

"Now… point it at my head," she breathed.

"Give me the bracelet and I will," Carol assured. The woman sneered, but unclasped the trinket, tossing it at Carol's feet with bloody, shaky hands. She bent down, keeping her gun aimed, and snatched it up, tucking it into her pocket.

The woman started laughing through her pain. "You could have been one of us," she said. "You could have listened to what the world is telling you."

"You lead people here and you take what they have and you kill them?" Carol asked, disbelieving. But the proof was right in front of her. In the names written on the floor. "Is that what this place is?"

"No, not at first," she whispered. "It's what it had to be. And we're still here."

Carol stared at the woman; her brow furrowed. This woman deserved to die for the things she and her people had done – she deserved a slow death. Carol shook her head and lowered her gun.

"You're not here," she corrected, picking up Daryl's crossbow. "Neither am I." She took up her weapons and went to the door, the walkers banging against it. She pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing the creatures to stumble inside.

"No! No! No!" The woman pleaded. "Oh God!" she cried as the walkers fell on her.

But Carol didn't look back as she left the woman to be consumed.

.

.

There were walkers clawing at the door. Everyone was doing what they could to prepare. They had to be ready. They had to be willing to fight. To kill.

Anna could feel that familiar icy sensation creeping into her bones. The last time she had felt it was winter, in the backseat of a broken down car in the middle of the woods. She'd shut down then – shut down the pain and the fear and the rage. She couldn't risk feeling any of it then. She couldn't risk feeling any of it now.

"What's the cure, Eugene?" Sasha asked, breaking the tense silence.

"It's classified," Eugene responded, not bothering to look up from his task.

Anna rolled her eyes. If Jessie thought the whole thing was bullshit, then so did she. They didn't have the luxury of chasing fairytales.

"We don't know what's gonna happen," Michonne cut in.

"You leave him be," Abraham warned.

"We need to keep working," Maggie said, walking across the train car, sharpening her stake with the chain of her father's pocket watch.

"Yeah, but it's time to hear it," Sasha said, not letting up. "'Cause we don't know what's coming next."

"What's next is we get out of this," Tara stated firmly.

"Even if I told you all, even if I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustrations and a well-composed FAQ and I went red-ring…, the cure would still die with me." Eugene insisted.

"I'm not gonna let that happen," Abraham assured, exchanging a long look with Eugene.

"The best-case scenario, we step out into a hell storm of bullets, fire, and walkers. I'm not fleet of foot. I sure as hell can't take a dead one down with sharp buttons and hella confidence," Eugene explained.

"Yeah, but we can, and we will," Michonne countered.

"You don't owe us anything," Sasha began, standing. "Not yet. But we just want to hear it."

"You don't have to," Rosita said.

Eugene stood with a sigh and faced them.

"I was part of a 10-person team at the Human Genome Project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases. Pathogenic microorganisms with pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire," he explained. "Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships made, information shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe with a little tweaking on the terminals in DC, we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire."

"Sounds like a damn video game," Anna scoffed as soon as he finished monologuing.

"Well, it ain't," Abraham snapped, standing and taking a threatening step towards her.

She took a challenging step forward.

"Hey," Maggie called. "Let's focus on gettin' ready," she said, positioning herself between them.

The second they backed away from each other, there was a banging at the door and everyone got into position, make-shift weapons at the ready. This was it. Light filled the train car, temporarily blinding Anna until she could make out Rick standing there with a machine gun in his hands.

"Come on! We fight to the fence!" He shouted, turning back to the crowd of walkers.

Anna cast her eyes about for Jessie, Daryl and Glenn; the three men were scattered in front of the train car, fending off walkers.

Without a second thought, Anna jumped out of the train car, skipping the stairs altogether. She hit the ground hard and sprinted for a walker coming up on Daryl's left, dispatching it with her wooden stake.

"Watch your six!" She shouted over the gunfire.

"Let's go!"

The group pushed their way towards the fences, only taking down walkers that got too close. Anna was more than willing to leave the rest of the dead for Terminus.

"Anna! Stay behind me!" Jessie demanded, pulling Anna by the arm until she was behind him as they came upon a large crowd of walkers.

He used his machete to take out two corpses. Anna turned her back to him to cover the rear, keeping an eye on the walkers slowly creeping up on them. She ducked the reaching hands of a corpse as it approached and stabbed up through its jaw until it fell limp at her feet.

"Let's go!"

She turned and, grabbing Jessie's hand, ran for the chain-link as Bob and Sasha climbed over, Rick, Daryl, and Abraham behind them.

"Hurry!"

Anna pushed her legs to run faster, her lungs protesting with every step, but she could feel the walkers clawing at the back of her neck. She leapt onto the chain-link, using her momentum to swing her legs up and over until she was tumbling to the ground on the other side with a thud.

The wind knocked out of her and she cringed in pain, the aching in her back from hitting the side of the train car now worse from her fall. She didn't have time to linger, however, as she saw her brother follow her lead, tumbling over the fence. She rolled out of the way just before he hit the ground, splayed out on his stomach.

"Ow…" he groaned.

"Come on – no time for sunbathin'," Daryl grumbled as he hovered over her. He grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet just as Jessie climbed to his.

"Damn, I was hoping to work on my tan," Jessie sighed.

Once Anna and Jessie had a chance to catch their breath, the three ran into the woods after their companions and away from Terminus as it burned. Anna was only upset she hadn't been the one to set it ablaze.

.

Not nearly far enough into the woods, they slowed until Daryl called Rick's attention, dusting leaves and twigs off a short shovel. He passed it to Rick, who crouched down and started digging.

"The hell are we still around here for?" Abraham demanded as the group gathered.

"Guns, some supplies," Rick explained.

Jessie pulled Anna to a stop and patted her down, checking for bites and scratches. She swatted his hands away with an irritated grimace.

"I'm fine," she assured.

"Go along the fences," Rick started. "Use the rifles. Take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn asked, shocked.

"They don't get to live," Rick said, his voice low.

Anna clenched her jaw as the group looked to each other.

"Rick, we got out. It's over," Glenn insisted.

Rick pulled a blue duffel from the ground and opened it to reveal a pile of weapons. He picked his Python out of the bunch and checked to make sure it was still loaded.

"It's not over till they're all dead," Rick said simply.

"The hell it isn't," Rosita snapped.

"Dude, that place is on _fire_," Jessie added.

"I'm not dicking around with this crap," Abraham sneered. "We just made it out."

"The fences are down," Maggie sighed. "They'll run or die."

Rick turned to Daryl then to Anna, looking for their opinion on the matter. Anna opened her mouth to answer, but she paused. What did she want to do? Why did it matter what she wanted to do?

Movement caught her eye and she tensed, ready to alert the others of the new arrival until she recognized the small frame, the short gray hair, the wide blue eyes.

"Carol," Anna breathed.

Daryl looked over his shoulder. A beat passed as Anna watched realization fall over him, and then he ran. A smile spread across Anna's face as the two wrapped their arms around each other.

Rick slowly approached and Daryl stepped to the side.

"Did you do that?" He asked, gesturing back towards Terminus.

She nodded slowly, holding back tears before Rick embraced her.

"You have to come with me," she said once they pulled apart.

.

Carol led them to a cabin just a few miles away from Terminus. As they neared, Tyreese stepped out onto the covered porch, Judith in his arms. Rick dropped the duffel of guns, and Anna watched with a smile as he, Carl, and Sasha ran to them.

Rick took Judith in his arms, a sob ripping from his throat as he fell to his knees. Sasha and Tyreese clung to each other. She looked to either side of her, Daryl on her right and Jessie on her left. Looping her arm with Jessie's, she leaned against him and reached out her hand to brush against Daryl's arm.

It was moments like this that reminded Anna that it was all worth it - facing the dark parts of this new world. Staying alive. Fighting. It was all worth it in the end.

.

Having finally handed Judith off to Carl and Michonne, Rick walked back to join the rest of the group, wiping his hands.

"What's the plan, Rick?" Anna asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She shifted on her feet between Daryl and Jessie, neither seeming keen on leaving her side.

Rick turned to look in the direction of Terminus. Anna followed his gaze, eyeing the black smoke rising into the sky.

"I don't know if the fire's still burning," Rick sighed.

"It is," Carol murmured.

"Yeah," Rick said slowly, "we need to go."

"Go where?" Daryl asked.

"Somewhere far away from here."

They didn't need to be told twice; the group followed Rick onto the tracks, Michonne – holding Judith – and Carl falling in beside him, and they headed away from Terminus.

Anna lingered for a moment, staring at the black smoke curling above the trees. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she wanted to go back. She wanted to make sure there was no one left alive in Terminus. She wanted them to suffer. Jessie had told her about the racks and the butchers.

There was no coming back from that.

But, instead, Anna trailed after Rick and the others. She noticed Rick at the back of the group. He knelt in front of a Terminus sign – she didn't need to get close to recognize it. She watched as he stood and smeared red mud over the Terminus map before writing something at the top. Anna waited for him to walk on before she approached. Over the black painted letters, Rick had written in the red mud a single word. No.

_No Sanctuary._


	4. Chapter Three

They set up camp for the night. Carol and Daryl took first watch at the edge of camp. He rested his chin on his crossbow, eyeing his friend as she pointedly avoided his gaze.

"I don't want to talk about it," she finally said, still not looking at him. "I can't." Daryl continued to watch her. "I just need to forget it."

"Alright," he said, knowing full well Carol would never forget what she had done.

Carol leaned back, digging into her pocket before she pulled out a piece of metal. "Here," she said, passing it over to him. "I found this on one of them."

He took it, running his thumb over the face of the metal plate.

_May you live all the days of your life - Jonathan Swift._

"I thought maybe you should give it back to her," Carol suggested, turning her eyes back to the dark trees.

Daryl looked over his shoulder to see Anna and her brother leaning side-by-side against a tree, talking. He decided he'd return the bracelet in the morning.

A twig snapped and leaves rustled. Daryl jumped to his feet; crossbow aimed. Carol stood beside him, her rifle at the ready as they peered into the brush. He stepped forward, holding his hand out for Carol to stay back, and strained his ears to listen. It was silent.

"It's nothing," he declared after a moment, relaxing his stance. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

.

.

Anna sighed heavily, her arms wrapped around her torso to fight off the chill in the air. She leaned against the tree beside Jessie, watching as the fire slowly flickered out. Despite walking away from Terminus and losing her bracelet, Anna felt good. Content.

"These are the people you've been with since the beginning?" Jessie asked, his voice hushed so that she was the only one who could hear him.

"Not the beginning, but pretty close," she responded. She stared at her naked wrist, grimacing at the absence of the bracelet. It was her last connection to Evan and Anderson, and now it was gone.

"No wonder you survived for so long. These guys are…," he trailed off, seeming to be looking for the right word.

Anna could think of plenty of ways to describe them. Tough, strong, brave, family. But they weren't the only reason she had survived for so long. After all, there were times when they weren't around to protect her. Times where she had to do the protecting.

Anna wanted to tell him that. But, she knew if she did she would have to tell him everything. Everything that happened and everything she'd done. And she wasn't ready for that.

"I owe them," Jessie said. "For keeping my little sister safe while I couldn't."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

.

The next day the group packed up camp and set off, anxious to put some more distance between them and Terminus. Daryl and Anna decided to split from the group to hunt for food while the others continued on. On the way out, Daryl explained to her what he'd heard the night before while on watch. Anna agreed that they needed to be sure they weren't being followed.

So, the couple made their way quietly through the trees. It had been a long time since Anna had gone hunting, but she remembered her lessons from Daryl. She was careful with her steps as she trailed after him.

She caught sight of a squirrel clinging to the side of a tree. Raising her rifle she paused and leveled its head within her sights. Exhaling slowly, she fired and the squirrel fell to the ground.

"Got it!" she beamed, rushing forward to collect her bounty.

Crouching down, she picked the squirrel up by the tail and held it aloft, grimacing at the dangling bits of muscle. The bullet had exploded the head.

"You know…," Anna trailed off, holding the squirrel out to Daryl as he tied a string around it. "When I was little, me and Jessie found a squirrel in the street. It was hurt but still alive," she explained. "So, we put it in a shoebox and hid it in the garage. We fed it and tried to nurse it back to health."

Anna stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. She let her head fall back as she squinted at the bright light filtering through the treetops.

"What happened to it?" Daryl asked, and she looked back at him.

"It died," she said simply. "We buried it in the backyard and cried. We were stupid to think we could help it."

"Y'all were just kids." Daryl shrugged, starting back to where Anna had taken the shot. She followed after him, watching as the dead squirrel dangled over his shoulder.

"Yeah…. I guess… I just never thought I'd stop caring about the life of a squirrel," she admitted, tilting her head as Daryl knelt down, brushing aside some leaves and twigs in search of a trail.

"Well, when you're hungry," Daryl sighed, looking up to peer into the trees. "don't matter how cute and cuddly somethin' is."

Anna snickered. "You think squirrels are cute and cuddly?"

"Shut up," Daryl mumbled as he stood, bumping her lightly with his arm. "Let's keep goin'."

Anna grinned at him as they started off again. After a few minutes, Daryl pulled her to a stop.

"Hold up," he said, digging into his pocket. "Gimme your hand," he ordered.

She frowned and cocked a brow at him, but complied, holding out her empty left hand. She watched as he clasped a silver chain around her wrist before adjusting it so that the metal plate rested on top.

"Thought you might want this back - that lady at the grill had it," he explained.

Anna felt the sting of tears against her lids as she stared down at the silver trinket. She scrunched up her face, trying to keep herself from crying as she ran her fingers over the scratches and dents and familiar engraving.

"Thank you," she breathed, looking up at him. She felt a single tear escape down her cheek. Daryl reached up and wiped it away with his thumb.

"Carol's the one who got it back," he insisted.

"But she gave it to you to return." Anna reached up and pressed her left hand against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Anna whispered. "I thought… I thought—I don't know what I thought," she admitted, shaking her head. He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her as she buried her face in his chest.

"_You love him?"_

She considered for a moment if she should tell him how she felt. If it would change things. She wondered if he would even say it back. She could feel the anxiety building in her stomach.

Anna opened her mouth to say it. She really wanted to say it. But she couldn't get the words past the lump in her throat.

"I missed you," she finally managed, because that was much easier_._

"I missed you, too," he hummed.

She pulled back to gaze up at him, memorizing his face. Finally, she pressed her lips against his, coiling her hand around to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair, her other hand still holding her rifle. He kissed her back, long and hard.

Anna decided that declarations of love could wait. For now, she just wanted to be in this moment, in his arms and kissing him.

.

For about an hour, they circled around the group, killing squirrels and searching for tracks of whoever may have been watching them. When they found nothing, they headed back with their haul.

Daryl snapped a twig under foot as they approached and the group readied themselves for a fight, aiming for the two as they rounded a tree.

"We surrender," Daryl teased, holding up his hands. The group lowered their weapons and relaxed.

Anna stepped around him, laughing lightly as she made her way to Jessie, bumping him with her hip.

"How'd it go out there?" He asked as she walked beside him. Daryl passed, brushing his hand against hers before he caught up to Rick.

"Good. Bagged a few squirrels - Daryl got most of them, of course," Anna sighed. "Those damn things are fast."

"When did you learn to hunt?" Jessie asked as they stepped over a tree root sticking out of the ground. "I thought you hated the sport?"

"I hated it as a _sport_," she corrected. "For survival – now that's something else entirely,"

"Alright, fair point," Jessie conceded. "So, when did you learn?"

"Daryl taught me back when we were still at the prison," she explained. Thinking of the prison had a familiar sting to it. But, she reminded herself that she would have never found her brother if they'd never been forced from the prison by The Governor.

And then she remembered.

"What happened to The Governor?" She called, addressing the group.

Michonne paused, looking over her shoulder. "I put my sword through his chest," she said firmly.

Rick whistled and called for everyone to keep up. The group continued through the woods, everyone in their own conversations.

"First," Jessie pointed at Michonne. "She had a sword?"

"Yeah, she was damn good with it, too," Anna sighed.

"Okay, that's awesome," Jessie laughed. "And second," he held up two fingers. "Who's the Governor?"

"His real name was Philip," Anna started. "He was the asshole who attacked the prison – killed a lot of good people."

"You guys had a prison – an extremely fortified place designed to keep people from breaking out. What the hell did he have?"

"A fucking tank," Anna grimaced.

"Help!"

Everyone stopped in their tracks as Rick called everyone to a halt.

"Help! Anybody, help!"

"Dad, come on!" Carl begged. "Come on!" He repeated, running off.

With an agitated grumble, Rick and the others followed after Carl through the woods, chasing the cries for help.

.

"Help!"

The group broke through the trees and easily took out the five walkers surrounding a man atop a boulder. Anna took point, keeping her gun trained on their surroundings in case someone or something else had heard the man's cries for help.

"We're clear. Keep watch," Rick instructed. "Come on down."

Anna saw in her peripheral as the man climbed down the boulder and stood in front of Rick on shaking legs.

"You okay?" Rick asked and the man promptly began puking.

Anna grimaced

"Sorry," he muttered, wiping at his mouth and straightening. "Thank you," he said as he adjusted his black coat. Anna's eyes caught sight of a white square at his throat. "I'm Gabriel," he introduced.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick asked.

Gabriel started laughing nervously, looking around the group. No one else seemed to find the question humorous.

"Do I look like I would have any weapons?" Gabriel asked, holding out his hands.

"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham snapped.

"I have no weapons of any kind," Gabriel announced. "The word of God is the only protection I need."

Anna bit her tongue and turned away to keep an eye on the perimeter.

"Sure didn't look like it," Daryl huffed.

"I called for help. Help came," Gabriel countered. "Do you have—have any food?" he asked. "Whatever I—I had left, it just hit the ground."

"We've got some pecans," Carl offered.

"Thank you…. That's a beautiful child." Anna took a protective step towards Judith in Maggie's arms, still not turning around.

"Do you have a camp?" Gabriel asked after a tense moment.

"No. Do you?" Rick asked in return.

"I have a church."

"Hold your hands above your head," Rick ordered. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Not any, actually."

Anna blinked at that.

"Turn around. How many people have you killed?"

"None," Gabriel said, astonished at the question.

"Why?"

"Because the Lord abhors violence," Gabriel said matter-of-factly.

"What _have_ you done?" Rick demanded. "We've all done something."

Anna bowed her head. There was no getting through this world without having done something – without having blood on your hands.

"I'm a sinner," Gabriel started. "I sin almost every day. But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

Anna finally turned around, narrowing her eyes at the priest. He was a twitchy little man and, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something off about him. Something she didn't trust.

"You said you had a church?" Michonne asked. Gabriel looked to her and nodded.

.

Anna wiped the sweat from her brow, silently cursing the heat wave. The nights may have gotten cooler, but the days consisted of a blazing sun and a lack of air-conditioning. Gabriel led them through the woods. Everyone was tired but too paranoid not to keep their eyes up. She walked between Daryl and Jessie, Rick and Gabriel taking the lead.

"Earlier… were you watching us?" Rick asked.

"I keep to myself," Gabriel sighed. "Nowadays, people are just as dangerous as the dead, don't you think?"

"No," Rick said, shaking his head. "People are worse."

Rick exchanged a look with Anna, then Daryl. Anna unconsciously reached up to run her fingers over the scars on her face.

_People were always capable of monstrous things,_ she reminded herself, dropping her hand back to her rifle.

"Well, I wasn't watching you," Gabriel assured. "I haven't been beyond the stream near my church more than a few times since it all started. That was the furthest I've gone before today," he explained.

He looked over his shoulder at Rick and the others. Anna frowned at him, wondering how he could have survived for so long staying in one place, by himself, without weapons. She tensed, thinking maybe he wasn't alone.

"Or maybe I'm lying. Maybe I'm lying about everything and there's no church ahead at all. Maybe I'm leading you into a trap so I can steal all your squirrels," he said, his tone teasing.

No one laughed as they stopped and stared at him. He looked to them, seeming to regret his words immediately.

"Members of my flock had often told me that my sense of humor leaves much to be desired," he sighed, face twitching.

"Yeah, it does," Daryl sneered.

"It—it's just up ahead," Gabriel stammered as he continued on, almost walking face first into a low hanging branch.

And, like he said, as they passed the last few trees on the path, the small church came into view. It was a small thing, fit for a small town, and it reminded her of a church they'd once visited nearly two years ago on the search for a little girl.

Her chest constricted at the memory. The closer they got the more Anna thought about everything that had happened, everything she had done, and a feeling of dread washed over her.

"Hold up," Rick said as Gabriel went to open the door. "Can we take a look around first?" He asked. Gabriel looked to him, confused. "We just want to hold on to our squirrels."

Gabriel finally nodded, reluctantly passing Rick the keys, and he opened the door. Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, and Carl filed in, weapons raised.

"Gonna swing around back," Abraham said, gesturing for Rosita to join him on the left and for Glenn and Maggie to go right. "You—"

"Yeah, keep Eugene safe, you got it," Jessie said, waving Abraham off.

Anna stared up at the steeple. Distantly, she could hear Tara and Eugene conversing. Looking back at the front doors, Gabriel stood on the porch. Jessie walked up beside her.

"Remember how mom used to always drag us to church?" He asked. "Every Sunday, without fail. That pastor always gave the kids hard, green candy. And then mom would take us to get breakfast at that little diner off main street." Jessie sighed, a small sad smile on his face.

Anna frowned. She couldn't bring herself to smile. It hurt too much to think about those things. But she knew what he was leading up to. She hadn't told him yet, and she wasn't sure how she could.

"Did you ever make it to South Carolina? To Myrtle Beach?"

"No…," she whispered.

"So, they could—"

"They're not."

"But, you don't know that for sure – Anna, the odds of me finding you were slim to none, but here we are. If there's even a chance, don't you think we should take it?" He insisted, turning to face her with an earnest gaze.

Anna shook her head, feeling the tears spring up in her eyes, but she wiped them away.

"Marley found them," she said. "She went looking for me and she found them. They're gone, Jess."

She looked to her brother and her heart broke at the expression on his face. The devastation he was trying so hard to hide. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he bowed his head. She could see his shoulders trembling before he stilled.

He nodded, pressing his lips together, and took a few steps back. He ran his hand down his face, wiping away the tears as they fell. Jessie had never been good at expressing his emotions. He let them bottle up until he couldn't take it anymore. Until he snapped under the weight of them.

And then he was wrapping his arms around her, his whole body shaking.

"I prayed," he muttered into her shoulder. "I prayed I would find you, and I did. I prayed that we would make it out of Terminus alive, and we did. I prayed that maybe – just _maybe_ – we'd find mom and dad," he took a shuddering breath. "I guess God doesn't always answer."

Anna looked back up at the steeple, her arms winding around him, holding tight.

"He does always answer," Gabriel interjected from where he stood on the porch. "It's just that… sometimes the answer is no."

Anna turned her eyes to the priest, opening her mouth to tell him to be quiet, but Jessie spoke up first as he pulled away.

"You said Marley found them – where is she?" He sniffed, rubbing the tears away from his face.

She froze, opening her mouth as she tried to find the right words. Anna wasn't ready to tell him – if she would ever be ready to tell him. To Jessie, Anna was still his little sister that tried to nurse a squirrel back to health. To him, she wasn't a killer.

"She's dead, too," she finally managed.

"Hey, Father!" Abraham called as he rounded the corner, followed by Rosita, Glenn, and Maggie. "Found a short bus back there, you want it?"

"If you can get it to work, it's yours," Gabriel said, nodding.

"Well, it just so happens I've got a scientist and an Engineer on my team," Abraham stated, looking between Eugene and Jessie.

"I never finished getting my Masters," Jessie reminded with a shake of his head.

"That's good enough for me," Abraham insisted.

The others came out of the church then. Rick handed the keys back to Gabriel.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside…," he trailed off, raising his eyebrows as Rick stared back at him. "...well, it would have been surprising."

"Thanks for this," Carl said, holding Judith in his arms.

"We found a short bus out back," Abraham started, calling Rick's attention. "It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he don't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport." He watched Rick for a moment as the man ran his hand over Judith's head. "You understand what's at stake here, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Now that we can take a breath—" Michonne chimed in only to be interrupted by Abraham.

"We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitable goes down," he proclaimed.

"We need supplies no matter what we do next," Michonne countered.

"That's right," Rick agreed. "Water, food, ammunition," he listed off, walking back inside.

"Short bus ain't goin' nowhere," Daryl assured as the others filed in after Rick. "Bring you back some baked beans."

Anna stood at the back of the group, watching as they disappeared inside.

"One way or another, we're doing what Rick does," Glenn said as he paused in front of Abraham. "We're not splitting up again." With that he went inside, followed by Maggie.

"What he said," Tara said as she passed.

Sasha and Bob came up next. "We want to roll with you, but…" he tilted his head towards Tara. "what she said." And they continued on.

Abraham huffed before he turned to Anna and Jessie.

"What about you two?"

Anna scrunched up her face. "I stay with them," she said firmly.

"And I stay with her," Jessie added.

Abraham shook his head. "We need to get Eugene to Washington, pronto."

"Yeah, yeah, and save the world," Jessie grumbled as he continued inside.

Anna snickered and leaned her hip against the railing, adjusting her grip on her rifle as Abraham, Eugene and Rosita started up the stairs. Rosita paused and looked to Anna.

"You coming in?" She asked.

Anna looked back up at the steeple.

"Nah, I'm gonna stay out here for a little while longer," she said, turning her attention to the tree line.

"Suit yourself," Rosita said as she left Anna alone outside in the sweltering heat.

Truth was, Anna didn't think she could go inside. She hadn't set foot in a church since the day Carl was shot, hadn't prayed since she was thirteen years old. She could admit to herself that there was a part of her – a superstitious part of her that still believed in some almighty being – that if she set foot inside that building, she'd be stricken down for all of her sins.


	5. Chapter Four

Rick decided it was time for a run. Daryl and Carol went out first to the stream the priest had mentioned, taking four plastic jugs with them to fill up. They were on their way back to the church when he finally decided to speak.

"Hey, I get it," he started. "You don't want to talk about it." They glanced to each other before Daryl continued. "You okay?"

"Gotta be," Carol said firmly.

Daryl couldn't help but think of Anna. He'd seen the way she had looked at her brother in the train car. He knew she was afraid he wouldn't accept how she had changed. And she _had_ changed. She'd become stronger, more capable and willing to survive – Jessie would have to figure that out eventually.

Things may not have panned out at Terminus – or even the prison – but this was a chance for them to try again. And they had gotten that chance because of Carol.

"We get to start over," Daryl insisted. "All of us – with each other." He looked to Carol. "You saved us – all by yourself."

"We got lucky," Carol sighed. "We all should be dead."

Up ahead they could see an old car on the side of the road. Carol stepped up her pace.

"I'll check it," she said.

"Alright."

They approached, and Daryl glanced around for any signs of the owners of the vehicle as Carol climbed into the driver's seat and tried the ignition. When the engine didn't turn over, she went around to the trunk and opened it.

"Hey," Daryl called and she looked over her shoulder at him. "We ain't dead," he stated. "And whatever happened… happened. Let's start over."

"I want to," Carol muttered.

"Well, you can."

Carol turned away then and pulled out a black car battery charger, flipping the switch for it to come to life with a hum.

"We should leave this here for backup in case things go South at the church," she explained, setting the charger back in the trunk and shutting it.

"Want me to carry one of those?" Daryl asked, reaching out for one of the water jugs as Carol picked them up.

As he said it, his own jug fell from his fingers and hit the ground with a hard thud, water splashing onto his face. He wiped the cool liquid from his face and snatched it back up.

"No," Carol snickered.

The pair continued back towards the church with their haul in silence.

_We've all done something,_ Rick had said. Daryl had to believe they could start over, put everything behind them. He had to believe that for Rick and for Anna and Carol. That they could all start over and just live.

.

.

Glenn, Maggie, and Tara went to loot a local gun store while Rick, Sasha, Bob, and Michonne were led to the overrun food dispensary by Father Gabriel. Anna hadn't wanted to stay at the church any longer than she needed to, so she elected to join Glenn, Maggie, and Tara on their run while her brother stayed with the others to work on the bus.

Of course, she could have joined Daryl and Carol, but she felt the two needed some time alone, to catch up. Carol was Daryl's best friend, after all, and Anna knew all too well what it was like losing one of those.

She rummaged through drawers and cabinets, searching for anything of use, only managing to find a single bottle of Bourbon. She grimaced at the amber liquid and decided to leave it. The last time she'd had Bourbon was just after she'd been shot in the arm back at Woodbury. Her arm still ached from time to time and she still had a scar on her bicep. Just another thing to add to the damage talk she would inevitably have with her brother. She was not looking forward to it.

"You haven't told him yet, have you?"

Anna stretched her back, listening to the successive pops her spine gave. It was still sore from hitting the train car as well as her tumble over the fence.

"Told who what?" Anna asked as she rolled her shoulders, grimacing at the pain.

"Your brother, about everything," Glenn clarified as he broke into the office at the back of the store.

She sighed heavily, picking up her rifle and walking over to him, leaning against the doorframe to peer down at him as he popped open a mini-fridge.

"Jackpot!" He cheered, pulling out three silencers. He stood and faced her, stuffing the silencers into his back pocket. "So?"

"I don't know how to tell him…, I'm afraid to," she admitted, pushing off the doorframe to head for the front of the store. It had been cleared out and she doubted they would find anything more.

"Hey," Glenn called, placing his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "He's your brother, he's not gonna love you any less," he insisted. "The things you've gone through—"

"The things I've done," she added bitterly.

"He'll understand. Just talk to him," Glenn said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.

Anna nodded and the two carried on. She put her hand on the front door handle to push it open and leave when there was a sudden clattering and crash. She spun and raised her rifle. Glenn stumbled forward, behind him a mop and a few boxes scattered on the ground.

She raised her eyebrows at him as he pointed a finger at her.

"Don't say anything," he bit out, a blush rising to his cheeks. She shook her head, watching as he pushed through the door, following close behind to find Maggie and Tara ready for a fight.

"Was it a walker?" Tara asked.

"Uh, yeah," Glenn stammered. "It was a walker."

Anna bit her lip trying to contain her laughter, but Maggie saw her struggling.

"Really?" the woman asked.

"It… was a stack of boxes… and a mop and I tripped," Glenn sighed.

Anna and Tara fell into a fit of laughter, Anna clapping Glenn on the shoulder as she walked past.

"Still, I got what we came for," he said, reaching for the silencers in his back pocket.

"You actually found something?" Tara asked, astonished.

"Three silencers stashed in a mini-fridge. Rule number one of scavenging—" Glenn began as he and Maggie started down the road. "—there's nothing left in this world that isn't hidden."

Anna sobered at that, frowning as she and Tara exchanged a look. They both had secrets. Secrets they couldn't hide forever.

.

When they returned to the church, Rick and his crew had made it back with a cache of food. Anna stopped at the outside steps and stared at the rich wood of the simple double doors. Daryl stepped up beside her.

"You haven't set foot in there since we got here," he observed.

Again, she looked up at the steeple pointed into the sky. It seemed so tall from this angle.

"I'm not religious – I never was," Anna said. She didn't know why she said it, but it seemed appropriate.

"Yeah, me too," Daryl muttered. He tapped her arm gently and gestured with his head for her to follow him. "Come on," he said, leading the way up the steps. When she didn't move he turned back to her.

"Those squirrels need to be skinned and washed for dinner," Anna said, shifting on her feet as she bowed her head.

Daryl sighed and walked into the church. She watched through the open door as he picked up the squirrels and a jug of water from one of the back pews and returned to her, handing the squirrels over.

"Can't stay out here forever," he said as she accepted the animal carcasses.

She took a seat on the bottom step, untying the rodents from Daryl's string. He sat beside her as she pulled the stake she'd made in the train car from her back pocket.

"You puttin' down vampires?" he teased.

Anna huffed, unwinding her belt from around the stake before she tossed it into a bush beside the porch. "Don't see any sparkling bastards anywhere," she muttered. "Can I borrow your knife? Rick didn't have any extra in the duffel," she asked, holding out her hand.

Daryl scoffed and pulled the rodents from her hand. "I'll skin, you clean."

Anna rolled her eyes.

"Don't want me playing with your toys?" She asked, bumping his shoulder with hers.

Daryl smirked and started skinning the squirrels with ease, blood splattering to the ground at their feet. She watched it as it dripped and pooled on the gravel, bright red. She could hear her heart thumping in her chest and it suddenly got very hard to breathe.

_With a trembling hand she reached out and touched the tips of her fingers against Marley's skin._

"I—" she cleared her throat. "I… uh."

Anna had no idea what she was trying to say – what words were trying to force their way out of her mouth. She felt like her head was slowly filling with water, and her stomach was churning as her grip on her belt tightened.

"Hey," Daryl called quietly. She turned to him and he passed her the jug of water. "Start cleanin'," he instructed, his eyes trained on her face.

She took the jug and he passed her the first squirrel. With shaky hands she started pouring a little water over the skinned creature and wiped the blood away. It continued like that, Daryl passing her squirrels, Anna cleaning them until their hands were painted pink and red and there were no more squirrels to clean.

He crouched in front of her, taking his red rag from his back pocket, pouring a bit of water on it. Silently, Daryl took her hands in his and wiped the wet cloth over her skin, cleaning away the blood.

.

Eventually, Anna found the nerve to go inside, due in large part to the hunger pains as Maggie, Rosita, and Sasha prepared dinner. She found herself on the floor in the center aisle, leaning against Daryl, her knee bumping against her brother's, laughing. She had managed to put aside her fears and apprehension to just enjoy the night with her companions. Her family.

Father Gabriel had even allowed them to dip into his communion wine as the group ate their fill. Jessie passed her a glass of wine, grinning at some joke Glenn had shared.

"Oh no," Daryl said, quickly taking the glass away before she could get her hands on it. "Last time you had wine you barged in my room and cried on me for an hour," he griped.

"It was _not_ an hour!" Anna insisted, reaching for the glass as he held it out of her reach. "And, may I remind you, I had a whole bottle of wine before I cried all over you - one glass isn't gonna bring on the water-works."

"Right," he scoffed, and downed the whole glass, smiling cheekily at her.

"Dick!" She lightly slapped his thigh in playful frustration and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned away from him. "May I please have another glass?" She asked, looking to her brother.

Jessie quickly turned away from her, reaching for a bottle, but not before Anna saw the expression on his face. She couldn't quite place it, the sad way he seemed to be smiling at them. She wondered what he'd been thinking.

He passed her another glass of wine and she sipped it, staring at him with a furrowed brow. Knowing he wouldn't tell her what was on his mind, she said nothing.

"I'd like to propose a toast!" Abraham called, standing as he tapped a spoon against his wine glass. The chattering and laughing died out, allowing him to speak freely. "I look around this room and I see survivors." Anna took another long sip of her wine. "Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors!"

"Survivors!"

"Cheers!"

Anna clinked glasses with the others. She took another long sip and the wine was gone.

"Survivors…," Abraham sighed. "Is that all you want to be? Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat?" he asked. "'Cause you can do that. I mean, you got the strength. You got the skill."

Anna scrunched up her face and laid her head on Jessie's shoulder.

"Thing is, for you people, for what you can do… that's just a surrender," he murmured. "Now, we get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again." Anna rolled her eyes at the preachy tone he'd taken on. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip," Abraham said simply, turning to Rick.

Judith cooed lightly and Rick kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" Abraham asked, pointing to the man.

"Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude," he explained. "That means food, fuel, refuge…. Restart."

"However this plays out..., however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there," Abraham insisted. "Safer than you've been since this whole thing started." He looked around the room at each of them. "Come with us," he said. "Save the world for that little one. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who don't got nothin' left to do except survive."

Rick chuckled after a moment and looked to Michonne. Judith cooed again.

"What was that?" He asked the infant. They all gave a soft laugh. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick grinned, looking around the room. "She's in. If she's in, I'm in," Rick declared. "We're in."

Glenn clapped and there were a few cheers and joyous laughter from the crowd. Anna wanted to believe that Eugene really was a scientist, that he really did have the answer to the infection. But, every time she thought that maybe it wasn't all just another beautiful lie, she remembered the CDC and Dr. Jenner.

Anna turned her attention to Daryl, wanting his opinion on the matter, only to find him staring off at the front doors, frowning.

"Carol left," he said.

"Maybe she just went to the bathroom," Anna offered, palming her empty glass.

He said nothing. Anna pursed her lips, following his gaze out into the darkness just past the double doors. She hadn't even noticed Carol slip out.

"Go," she finally said, pushing him gently. He looked to her and she nodded. "Make sure she's alright." Daryl went to climb to his feet when she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Come back," she said. "That's an order."

The corners of his mouth twitched for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her. She smiled into his lips, feeling a little lightheaded, but she brushed it off as the wine. He pulled away and smirked at her.

"Yes ma'am."

And with that, he picked up his crossbow and slipped out the front doors.

"Where's your old ass boyfriend going?" Jessie asked, resting his chin on Anna's shoulder.

"He's not that old," she groaned.

"Still older than me. Still gross."

"You're gross," she griped, shrugging him off her.

"I remember your first communion," Jessie commented, letting his head fall back against the pew. "You looked like you were going to throw up all over the priest after you took the wine."

She pulled her knees up and balanced the wine glass on top, watching the way the candlelight played on the glass, making her own personal rainbows. Her face was impassive as she listened to him reminiscing. She hated it.

"I try not to think a whole lot about before," she admitted. "Hurts too much."

Jessie nodded. "I get that… but we can't forget who we were," he insisted. "Too much horrible shit happens nowadays, we can't let go of what we had before all this." He waved his hand in the air. "Before we were scavenging for food and eating on the floor of an old church. Before people decided cannibalism was the way to go. Before—I don't know—before the world fell apart."

"Too much horrible shit happens nowadays," Anna echoed softly. "Maybe who we were before all of it – all of this – wasn't strong enough to make it through."

"You made it through."

Anna winced at the assertion. She couldn't help but wonder if she really had. She certainly hadn't come out the same. She clenched her jaw, working up the nerve to tell him, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"We both did."

.

.

He knew where she was heading. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He didn't need tracks or a map or a bright neon sign to tell him where she was going. Daryl knew Carol was going for the car they'd found earlier. He just didn't know why.

He watched her charge up the battery and take out a walker before he revealed himself, snapping a twig under foot to call her attention. She turned to him as he walked out of the darkness.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I don't know," she sighed. Daryl looked at her for a moment, considering.

"Come on," he said, gesturing back towards the church. She made towards him and was sheathing her knife when the sound of a car speeding down the road filled the night air.

They ducked behind the car and peered over the side of it as a black vehicle sped past them on the crossroad. Daryl ran to watch it race away and he saw it. The white cross on the back window.

Without a second thought, he ran back for the car, picking up his crossbow on the way, and started smashing out the taillights.

"Whoa, whoa!" Carol called. "What are you doing?" She demanded. "What are you doing?"

"They got Beth. Come on!" He said as he took out the second taillight. He jogged around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. "Come on, get in!"

With no further prompting, Carol climbed into the passenger seat and before she had even closed the door he was slamming his foot on the gas, barreling down the road after the car, tires squealing.


	6. Chapter Five

As the festivities winded down for the evening, Anna noticed a distinct lack of Daryl and Carol. She knew they should have returned by now and was starting to get worried. Of course, the two weren't the only one's missing.

"Has anyone seen Bob?" Sasha asked.

"Daryl and Carol are missing, too," Glenn said, concerned.

"Daryl went to go look for Carol, and I have no ideas about Bob," Anna explained, standing and grabbing her rifle. "I'm going to go look for them."

"Not alone, you're not," Jessie snapped, climbing to his feet.

"She's not alone," Sasha said, picking up her own rifle and heading over.

"More the merrier," Jessie shrugged.

"No," Anna sighed. "I don't need a bunch of people mucking up the trail – just Sasha."

"Anna's got this," Rick assured, laying a hand on Jessie's shoulder. "She's a good tracker, she learned from the best."

"Right," Jessie grumbled.

"I'll be fine," Anna insisted. "Come on, Sasha," she said nodding to the door, and the two were off.

They walked quietly into the woods, Sasha close behind Anna, eyes up and keen, while Anna searched the ground for tracks. She didn't expect to find tracks from Daryl, but it didn't take long for her to find something.

"Someone was dragged through here," Anna said, furrowing her brow as she followed the trail of pulled dirt. She looked up and found a thin branch bent out of shape, reading the signs just as Daryl had taught her. "This way," she said, leading them due South past the graveyard.

"Bob," Sasha hissed. "Bob."

In the distance there came a snap and a rustle of leaves. Anna and Sasha tensed, raising their rifles to peer through the trees.

"You see anything?" Anna asked Sasha, who had the night scope.

"Some guy just went into the woods," Sasha said, her voice low. "Come on, we can still follow—GAH!"

Anna jumped back as Sasha slammed a walker against a tree. While Sasha dispatched a second walker, Anna used the butt of her rifle to smash in the skull of the first corpse. She looked up at Sasha, both panting at the effort.

"You alright?" Anna asked.

Before Sasha could answer there was another snap just behind them and both women jumped back, aiming their weapons in the direction of the sound. Out of the tree line stepped Tyreese and Rick.

"It's us," Tyreese called softly, holding up his hands as Rick shined his flashlight around. They relaxed their stances at the friendly faces.

"He's getting away!" Sasha huffed, turning back towards the source of the first snap.

"Who?" Tyreese asked.

"Somebody was watching us," Anna informed, peering through the darkness.

"If we go in there now, some of us aren't comin' back," Tyreese reasoned.

"Bob is out there somewhere," Sasha insisted. "Scared, alone."

"Maybe not alone," Rick said uneasily. "Daryl and Carol still haven't come back."

.

The four returned to the church to regroup with the others and try to figure out what to do next. Anna's stomach twisted in knots and her heart panged uncomfortably in her chest. She was worried – they all were – about their missing companions and the people watching them in the dark.

As soon as they entered the church, Sasha immediately approached Gabriel as he collected the silverware from the night's dinner.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. He furrowed his brow at her, confused, so she repeated herself. "What are you doing?" Her voice was low and threatening. "This is all connected. You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone," she hissed.

"I—I don't—I don't have anything to do with this," Gabriel stammered.

Anna took a step forward, reaching out for Sasha, but Jessie pulled her back just as the woman pulled her knife, pointing it at the priest.

"Wait!"

"Don't!"

"Sasha," Tyreese called. "Put it away."

"Who's out there?" Sasha asked, backing him up against the banister separating the altar from the rest of the church.

"I—I don't have anything to do with this," he stuttered.

"Where are our people?"

"I don't have anything to—"

"Where are our people?" Sasha shouted, cutting off his babbling.

"Please, I don't have anything to do with this. I—" Gabriel continued, shaking where he stood.

Rick pulled Sasha away from Gabriel and took her place, staring him down with a hard glare. "Why'd you bring us here?"

"Please, I—"

"You workin' with someone?" Rick asked.

"I'm alone. I'm alone—I was always alone," Gabriel insisted.

"What about the woman in the food bank, Gabriel? What did you do to her? _You'll burn for this_? That was for you. Why? What are you gonna burn for, Gabriel?"

"_We've all done something"_ Rick's words echoed in Anna's head

Rick grabbed the priest by his collar and shoved him against the banister. "What?" He hissed as Gabriel whimpered. "What did you do?" He shouted.

"I lock the doors at night. I always lock the doors at night. I always lock the doors at night. I always—" he said, the words spilling from his mouth until he cut himself off, swallowing hard. "They started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared. They were—they were looking for a safe place, a place where they felt safe. And it was so early." He heaved a deep breath.

Anna furrowed her brow, trying to process what he was saying.

"It was so early," he sobbed. "And the doors were still locked. You see, it was my choice. There were so many of them and they were trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sidings, screaming at me." He let out a shuddering breath.

Gabriel looked around the room, his eyes glistening in the candlelight.

"And so the dead came for them. Women… children. Entire families calling my name as they were torn apart. Begging me for mercy. Begging me for mercy." He clasped his hands together under his chin. "Damning me to hell…. I buried their bones. I buried it all," he explained. "The Lord sent you here to finally punish me."

He fell to the ground, weeping. "I'm damned… I was damned before. I always lock the doors. I always lock the doors," he cried.

Everyone stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and disgust among the group as they watched him crumble and sob in front of them. No matter who you were, a college kid, a sheriff, a priest – you didn't make it through this world without getting blood on your hands.

"Hey."

Everyone turned to see Glenn peering out one of the front windows.

"There's something… there's someone outside lying in the grass!"

Sasha ran out first. Anna tore after her, taking point as the others joined them on the lawn.

"Bob!" Sasha gasped, falling to her knees beside the man lying unconscious on the ground.

"I got two walkers," Anna called, using the butt of her rifle to dispatch the closest one.

"His leg," she heard Maggie say.

"Get Bob inside. We'll take care of them," Glenn ordered.

There was a single gunshot and Anna ducked, searching for the source.

"Get inside!" Rick commanded, firing into the tree line.

Anna peered down her sights, covering the others as they made their way inside, carrying a very one-legged Bob.

.

"I was in the graveyard. Somebody knocked me out," Bob explained, barely held up by Sasha and Tara in the center aisle, the rest of the group gathered around. "I woke up outside this place. It looked like a school." He looked to Rick. "It was that guy, Gareth. And five other ones." His eyes fell to his absent leg. "They were eatin' my leg right in front of me. Like it was nothin'. All proud like they had it all figured out. They said they'd do it to anyone."

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?" Rick asked, scooting forward.

Bob shook his head, "Gareth said they drove off."

Anna clenched her jaw. For a split second she thought he'd abandoned her. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that there had to be a good reason. Daryl wouldn't just leave her with no explanation after everything they'd been through. A pained groan from Bob pulled Anna from her thoughts.

"He's in pain. Do we have anything?" Sasha asked, turning to Rosita.

"I think there are pill packets in the first aid kit."

"Yeah," Sasha nodded.

"Save 'em," Bob called before Rosita could get up, pushing himself further into a sitting position. His skin was pale and slick with sweat. He'd lost a lot of blood.

"No," Sasha insisted.

"Really," Bob sighed. He reached up and pulled the collar of his shirt aside, revealing a nasty wound on his shoulder. A walker bite. "It happened at the food bank."

Sasha's face contorted in pain and she shook her head, taking Bob's hand and holding it to her chest. "It's okay," she choked.

Finally giving into his wounds, Bob collapsed back and passed out. Sasha caught his head and lowered him to the ground.

"There's a sofa in my office," Gabriel offered softly. "I know it's not much, but—" "Thank you," Sasha whispered, looking to him.

Tyreese stood then and moved around Bob. "I got him," he assured as he crouched to scoop Bob into his arms. Sasha and Maggie followed them as they disappeared inside the office.

Anna approached Rick as he stood and walked over to Gabriel.

"Do you know the place Bob was talking about?" He asked.

"It's an elementary school," Gabriel said, nodding. "It's close."

"How close?" Gabriel didn't respond right away. "How close, Gabriel?" Rick asked again.

"It's just a ten minute walk through the woods from here, due South of the graveyard."

Judith began to cry and Carl took her in her basket, shushing her gently as he carried her away from the conversation to rest in peace. Anna watched them go before she approached Rick. Maggie came out then and stood beside her.

"Does he have a fever?" Rick asked, looking to the taller woman.

"He's just warm," Maggie informed.

"Jim lasted almost two days before we left him," Glenn reminded.

Anna grimaced at the memory of the man. She'd risked her life for him, jumping in front of a swinging pickaxe, just so he had a little more time to suffer. Was Bob going to be another Jim? Left on the side of the road to die?

"Time for a reality check," Abraham called from the front doors of the church, holding his rifle. "We all need to leave for DC – right now."  
Rosita gathered her gear and joined Abraham as the others stared at him. Anna crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at the man.

"Daryl and Carol are gonna be back," Rick said evenly. "We're not goin' anywhere without them."

Abraham nodded. "I respect that, but there's a clear threat here to Eugene. I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier. So, if y'all won't come, good luck to you. We'll go our separate ways."

Anna opened her mouth to snap back at him when Rick cut in.

"You leavin' on foot?" He asked.

Jessie sighed, bowing his head as he leaned against one of the pews. "We fixed the bus,"

"There are a lot more of us," Rick warned.

"You want to keep it that way? You should come," Abraham countered.

"Carol saved your life," Rick said, walking towards the man. "We saved your life."

"Well, I am trying to save yours!" Abraham snapped. "Save everyone's."

"We're not going anywhere without our people," Anna insisted, staring hard at Abraham.

"News flash, honey; your boyfriend took off with another woman. Move on," Abraham sneered.

Anna uncrossed her arms and took a step forward only to feel a hand on her elbow, holding her back. She flinched away from the contact but stilled.

"They're comin' back," Rick hissed.

"To what? Picked-over bones?" Abraham shouted.  
"You're not taking—" Rick went to lay his hand on Abraham's shoulder only for the man to throw him off.

"Do not lay hands!" Abraham warned.

"Abraham!" Rosita called. Glenn jumped forward to intervene as the two leaders faced off.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop!" He commanded. The two backed away from each other and Glenn turned to Abraham. "Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now, in the middle of the night?" He asked.  
"Yeah… yeah," Abraham said, huffing, seeming not completely sure but reluctant to admit it.

"What about tomorrow?" Glenn suggested. "We need each other for this. We need each other to get to DC. We can get through all of it together," Glenn implored.

"I have an idea," Tara cut in, stepping forward. "If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to DC," she offered. "No matter what. Okay?"

Abraham nodded as his eyes flicked over to Glenn. "Glenn and Maggie, too."

"No," Rick said.

"Good luck, then," Abraham said, turning away. "I'm not interested in breaking up what you have here. Rosita grab your gear."

"Abraham—" Rosita tried.

"Now," he said, cutting her off. "Eugene, let's go." Eugene didn't make to get up from where he sat in the front pew. "Eugene…. Move it."

"I don't want to," Eugene muttered.

"Now," Abraham growled.

"Okay," Eugene mumbled, rising from the pew.  
The three headed for the door. Anna saw Rick's hand move to his Python on his hip and she tensed, her hand inching towards her rifle where it leaned against the back of the pew she stood beside.

"You're not takin' the bus," Rick said, his voice low.

"Try to stop me," Abraham said, turning around.

Rick paused for a moment, looking to the side. Anna's fingers curled around the barrel of her rifle. If she was being honest, she didn't know what she was going to do with it. Point it at Abraham? Would she shoot him?

Rick started forward and Abraham passed his gun to Rosita, ready for a fist fight, but Anna could see Rick positioning his revolver in his hand to use as a club. Rick wasn't stupid. Abraham was much bigger and much stronger. It wouldn't be a fair fight either way it went down.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Glenn called, jumping in between the two again. "Hey, hey, hey! You stay—" Glenn said, his breathing labored as he tried to push the two apart. "You stay and help us, and we will go with you," Glenn promised.

"No," Rick snapped.

"It's not your call," Glenn said, looking to Rick before he turned to face Abraham fully. "You stay, help us," he pleaded.  
"Jessie and Anna, too," Abraham said, pointing them out.

"Don't push it, Gingersnap," Anna sneered, glaring at the man as he let out a scoff.

"Half a day," he finally relented. "Come high noon, we're taillights. I'm not waiting for the other damn shoe to drop."  
"And we will leave with you," Maggie assured.

Abraham nodded to himself. "Twelve hours… then we go."


	7. Chapter Six

Maggie and Tara sorted through the bullets and loaded clips while Rick went over the plan one last time. Anna nodded along from where she sat on the back of the third pew to the right of the altar, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Her mother would have ripped her a new one for sitting on the pew in such a manner, dirty boots on the wooden seat in the Lord's house.

"They think they're in control," Rick said. "We're in here and they could be anywhere. But we know exactly where they are," he assured.

"Plan's got stones, I'll give you that," Abraham said, arms crossed over his chest.

"Make our move before they do," Glenn agreed.

"That's right," Rick said, adjusting his stance as he put his hands on his hips. "They're not counting on us thinkin' straight."

"Are we?" Rosita asked. Everyone looked to her. "I'm just making sure. It's a big play," she explained with an uneasy shrug.

Rick rubbed his hand down his face. "Remember what these people are capable of," he said.

Bob in the next room, barely alive, was reminder enough of what these _people_ were capable of. What they were willing to do.

Rick turned to Tyreese, who was sitting off by himself in front of the office, staring at the ground.

"Tyreese?" Rick called.

"Yeah?" The man answered.

"You up for this?"

_"I can see their faces. See who they were before."_ Anna remembered a time when she was pretending to be some kind of therapist – when she was trying to hide from who she'd become. Tyreese wasn't pretending. He wasn't hiding from who he was. He _was_ good. She knew he wasn't up for this.

"I'm going with you."

Anna looked up to see Sasha in the doorframe of the office, her face set. She wasn't going to be convinced to do otherwise.

"You should stay with Bob," Tyreese said.

"No. I want to be out there. I want to be a part of this," she said simply, disappearing within the office again to cut off any further argument. Tyreese got to his feet and followed after her.

"You should stay back, too," Jessie said, stepping up to stand beside Anna. "Hide in the office, protect Judith and Carl."

"No," Rick said, looking to Jessie.

Anna sighed as Jessie straightened to his full height, ready to challenge Rick. But she laid a hand on his arm and looked up at him. She knew he saw the sadness in her eyes when he stared back at her. This was it. No more hiding who she was.

"She can track, hunt – and with her Army experience, I want her on this side of that door," Rick explained, pointing at the office.

Jessie furrowed his brow. "Army? You weren't—"

Anna cut him off. "I'll explain later."

.

Once Carl, Rosita, Judith, Tyreese, Eugene, Bob, and Father Gabriel were secure in the office, the rest of the group went out, crossing the graveyard and heading due South towards the elementary school. Anna found the tracks again and pointed them out to Rick. But it didn't matter. Going to the school wasn't part of the plan.

The eight stopped within the tree line and waited in the darkness, just beyond field of view. Anna and Abraham took point, crouched and aiming their rifles, just like the military had taught them.

"You were with the Army?" Abraham asked, his voice hushed so that she was the only one to hear it.

"Seven months with Fort Benning after the turn," she whispered back.

She caught movement in her peripheral and nodded her head towards it. They watched as a group of six came out of the trees and made for the church. Her body tensed, ready to strike, but Rick's voice stopped her.

"Hold your positions," he hissed to the group.

They didn't move as the six stopped in front of the church, waiting, listening. She recognized the bright orange duffel on one of them – her bug-out bag. But she focused on counting their fire-power. The group moved forward as soon as Gareth gave the signal. One broke through the front doors and they filed in.

"Hold," Rick whispered. Anna looked in the windows and found no spotters and whispered as much to Rick. Rick dropped his hand. "Go, go, go."

Anna and Abraham went first, crouched low to avoid being seen, and made their way through the graveyard. She could hear six footsteps hurriedly following close behind. Silently, careful not to hit any noisy boards, Abraham went up the front stairs, followed by Anna, then Rick.

Staying hidden within the shadows, they took positions on either side of the entryway, Rick standing between them as the others carefully entered.

"Just open the door and go – you can take the baby with you," Gareth said. She had him in her sights, her finger on the trigger, but she waited for Rick's signal. "What do you say?" Gareth turned, ready to shoot the door of a side room open when Judith cried out.

She cursed internally as Gareth turned, smirking towards the office.

"I don't know. Maybe we'll keep the kid," Gareth said. "I'm starting to like this girl."

Gareth moved to stand at the head of the center aisle, two men aiming guns at the office door. Anna wondered why Rick was taking so long.

"It's your last chance right now to tell us you're coming out," Gareth called.

"Are we done?" The man beside him asked, impatient.

"We'll hit the hinges," Gareth instructed.

Just as the men at the door readied to fire, Anna and Rick fired their silenced weapons, taking down one, then the other. They fell to the ground, blood splattering on the wall. The others turned to them.

"Put your guns on the floor," Rick commanded.

"Rick, we'll fire right into that office. So you lower your gun—" Rick didn't let him finish as he fired another silenced shot, hitting the two fingers Gareth was using to point at the office. Gareth collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain, holding his bloody hand.

Rick finally stepped out of the shadows and Anna split off from the group, heading to her right.

"Put your guns on the floor and kneel," Rick commanded again.

"Do what he says," Gareth ground out, writhing on the floor in pain. The others put their guns down and their arms up, and Anna felt her stomach churn. They were surrendering. Except one.

"Martin, there's no choice here," Gareth snapped at the hooded man beside him who still held onto his machine gun.

"Yeah, there is," Martin said, nodding.

"Wanna bet?" Abraham sneered as he came up and trained his gun on Martin.

Martin put his gun down and crossed his arms over his chest as he got onto his knees.

Rick walked around Gareth and the two stared at each other.

"No point in begging, right?" Gareth asked.

"No," Rick said, his voice calm.

"Still, you could have killed us when you came in. There had to be a reason for that," Gareth said, his voice trembling with pain and fear.

"We didn't want to waste the bullets," Rick said with a shrug.

Anna kept her eyes on the woman kneeling in front of her, gun leveled with her head. The woman was trembling, trying hard not to cry. "Please," she whispered, staring at Anna. Anna just adjusted her rifle against her shoulder.

"We used to help people. We saved people," Gareth insisted. "Things changed. They came in and—" he groaned and bent over. Rick just watched him. "After that… I know that you've been out there, but I can see it," he hissed. "You don't know what it is to be _hungry_." Rick tilted his head. "You don't have to do this. We can walk away. And we will _never_ cross paths again. I promise you," Gareth pleaded.

"But, you'll cross someone's path," Rick countered, pointing his gun at Gareth's head before lowering it. "You'd do this to anyone, right?" Rick shifted on his feet, placing his hand on the red handle of his machete. "Besides… I already made you a promise."

At that, Rick unsheathed his machete and brought it down on Gareth's shoulder, followed by more and more strikes to his side as he collapsed.

Anna stepped forward. She'd known what to do the moment she chose her target. She let her rifle dangle at her side. Anna reached to grab the woman as she scrambled to her feet but was pulled back, guided to stand behind Jessie.  
He raised his gun and fired a single shot with his silenced pistol, and with wide eyes the black-haired woman dropped to the floor, blood dripping down her forehead.  
Anna stared at him, watched as he lowered his gun and turned around, his eyes closed. He took a deep breath before he looked at her and her heart plummeted, her stomach twisted, and she thought she might fall apart.  
Her brother looked so old and worn. She could finally see the dark circles under his eyes, and the broken look on his face.

"Why?" She asked, her voice a hoarse whisper within the church that somehow drowned out everything else.

"I couldn't let it be you."


	8. Chapter Seven

Anna had thought the sun would never rise. The night dragged on with no sign of Daryl and Carol. She had spent her time waiting, laid out on a pew, staring at the ceiling while Tyreese and Jessie carried the bodies from the church. She had wanted to help, but Tyreese had insisted they were fine and Jessie – he seemed reluctant to say anything.

Maggie and Sasha tended to Bob in the office while Tara, Glenn, Abraham, and Rosita prepared the bus for departure. Rick sat with his family and Michonne was distant. Anna was alone.

She knew that after what happened last night, she and Jessie had to talk about the damage. There was no more avoiding it. It was just a matter of when. The creaking of the office door being opened called Anna's attention, and she sat up, twisting her back to try and work the knots out. Wooden pews were not comfortable beds. Maggie poked her head out of the office.

"Hey, guys," she called softly. The room turned to her, just as Tyreese and Jessie returned from dropping off the last body. "Bob wants to say his goodbyes."

A heartbeat passed in which no one moved. Blowing out a puff of air, Anna got to her feet. Maggie stepped out of the way, holding the door open as Anna passed through the threshold.

Bob was laid out on the sofa, a quilt pulled up to his chest. Sasha sat with him, holding his hand. Behind her, Anna heard the others file in. Sasha stood with a sad smile and allowed Anna to take her place. Carefully, Anna sat down, slipping her hand into Bob's.

"I never told you I'm sorry for not makin' it to any of those S.A. meetings," Bob sighed.

Anna shook her head with a grimace. "That's okay – they didn't really matter in the end."

"No, they did," Bob insisted, squeezing her hand weakly. "I should've went. Helped a lot of people cope."

"We're supposed to be saying goodbye," Anna said, her voice cracking a little.

"I don't think we ever really said hello."

Anna scoffed lightly, wiping at a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "Were you always this corny?" She asked.

"Hello to you too," Bob grinned.

"Hey," Anna whispered. Bob gave a knowing smile.

"Take care of yourself – take care of Daryl and your brother."

"I will," she promised. _If we ever find Daryl. _

"You've never told him, have you?"

"Told him what?"

"That you love him."

Anna averted her gaze sheepishly, glancing behind her to see everyone watching the exchange. She supposed that if Bob could see it, than everyone else probably could, too. She turned back to Bob and shook her head.

"He'll come back," Bob assured. "And when he does, you need to tell him how you feel. Take it from a dyin' man; ain't no time to waste."

Deciding she had monopolized enough of his time, Anna kissed his hand and stood, careful not to jostle him. She waited with the others as one by one, everyone said their goodbyes. Once the group had said their piece, they filed out of the room.

"Rick," Bob called as they left.

Anna went straight outside, frustratedly wiping at the tears on her cheeks. She rounded the corner, intending to hide from the sun in the shade of the church and cry away from the view of the others. She fell against the side of the church and let herself slide to the ground, curling in on herself.

She stared at a little purple wildflower blooming in the grass. Slowly, her tears dried away. Behind her, she could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Anna wanted it to be Daryl, returned from whatever adventure he'd had with Carol. She wanted his steady, solid presence beside her. She wanted to know that he was safe. But the boots that walked around and stopped in front of her weren't Daryl's.

Jessie sat down and started to pick at the grass beside him. They didn't say anything for a long time, didn't look at each other. How could they after last night? But she wanted desperately to know what he was thinking – if he thought less of her for her willingness to kill.

"Tyreese is digging a grave for Bob," he finally said. "We'll bury the others after."

Anna nodded, watching him as she leaned her head against the wall. Silence fell between them again, separating them like a heavy curtain. Guilt started to seep into her chest because, for the first time since finding her brother, she wondered what he'd been through.

She had been so wrapped up in what had happened to her, what she had done and the fear of telling him about it, that she hadn't even considered the idea that there might have been things that haunted him, too.

Jessie cleared his throat and finally looked up at her. She could see just how exhausted he was.

"I think it's time we talk about the damage."

Anna nodded, adjusting her seating so that her back was pressed against the wall. A light breeze blew past, rustling the leaves of the trees, and she tucked her hair behind her ears. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn't know where to start, so she closed it.

"There was this girl," Jessie sighed after a moment of watching Anna struggle to speak. "Her name was Katherine. She was fifteen – lost her family early on. We survived together… for a while." He ran a hand down his face. "She was my best friend."

"What happened to her?" Anna asked, her voice a whisper.

"She was bitten. I—she was in so much pain, I couldn't… I couldn't let her suffer." He sucked in a breath. "I had to do it… it had to be me."

Anna nodded, reaching out and pulling at a blade of grass, twirling it between her fingers.

"After that I just… kept going East. I figured I'd make it to Myrtle Beach eventually – or die trying."

Anna flinched at the assertion.

"That's when Abraham found me. He was heading East, so I hopped a ride with him," he shrugged before he took a deep breath. "We had a lot of people with us, and then we lost them. We were about half-way to Georgia when some guys came, trying to take our truck, supplies… Rosita. I didn't feel a god damned thing when I put those assholes down with Abraham."

Jessie sat up and propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to give Anna a heavy gaze. "I killed that woman last night because I couldn't let it be you. You wouldn't have been able to live with the guilt."

_I have so far,_ Anna thought bitterly.

Anna threw the blade of grass down and pulled her knees up, holding them as she searched for the right place to start. She supposed the beginning was the best option. So, she told him about the plane, and Evan and Anderson, and the airport.

"They didn't need to take me with them," she said. "They didn't know me – they owed me nothing. But I would have never made it out of that airport without them. They taught me how to use a gun, how to take down a walker. They saved me."

She smiled sadly as she told Jessie about the fatal run into Atlanta and the week spent trying to nurse Evan back to health, and how he ultimately died and turned. How she hadn't been able to put him down.

"That's when Daryl found me and brought me back to his camp – he saved my life, too. And I met Rick and Carl, Glenn, Carol, and others. We went to the CDC – almost got blown up. We wound up on a farm, we—we lost a little girl – Carol's daughter… Sophia," Anna said, wiping away a stray tear.

"The farm was overrun, Anderson was bitten while saving me, and I—" she stopped, furrowing her brow before looking to her brother. "I had to do it."

He looked away then, his hands curling into fists as they shook. For a moment, Anna considered stopping there, skipping over her winter completely. But she couldn't. She couldn't because what had happened had been so instrumental in her evolution.

"I was separated from the others…," she started, hesitant. Did she really want to tell him this part? Her heart was thundering in her ears. "I tried to make my way back to them but… some… _men_ found me."

Jessie's eyes snapped up to hers, staring and full of fear of what she was about to say. Anna reached up and ran a finger over the thin scar running from her temple to the top of her cheek.

"I…" she took in a shuddering breath, the words sticking in her throat. She'd been able to tell Glenn and Rick, and after some prompting, she'd been able to talk to Daryl about it. But, this was different. This was her brother.

"Did they…?" he couldn't say it either. His whole body went rigid and she could see the tears rimming his bottom lids as he stared at her.

Anna looked away, a tear falling down her cheek followed by another and another. She gave a short nod. Abruptly, Jessie got to his feet and for a second Anna thought he was going to walk away. Instead, he paced back and forth. She jumped when he slammed his fist against the side of the church with a loud bang.

She looked over her shoulder to see Glenn staring at them, a worried look on his face as he started over to them. Anna held up her hand and shook her head, and he stopped. He seemed to understand then and bowed his head before returning to Maggie. For a moment, Anna watched as Glenn whispered something to her. Brushing a hand through her hair, Anna turned back to Jessie. His breathing was labored as he braced himself against the church, his face screwed up in a mix of pain and anger.

"Marley and the people she was with – they came through, took them out, took me in – those… _men_ are dead now," she assured. "I spent seven months with Marley at Fort Benning, healing, training," she explained, pushing on with her story.

"And that's where you got the military experience," Jessie concluded, his voice small as he slowly got to his knees, resting his forehead against the wall.

Anna nodded.

"I was in a dark place for a long time…. Eventually, Marley and I were separated from Fort Benning and I found Daryl and Rick and Glenn again. We ended up getting into this huge altercation with The Governor – I told you about him. Marley and I – we went to Fort Benning for reinforcements." She shook her head, pulling a handful of grass up. "We didn't make it."

"What happened?"

Anna took a deep breath, gathering herself. This was what kept her up at night. This was what she was most afraid of telling her brother.

"You have to understand," she started, her voice pleading as her heart pounded against her ribcage. "Fort Benning – they would have killed everyone. I couldn't let that happen. But, Marley—" she covered her face with her hands and let out a strangled sob, her breathing coming in uncontrolled bursts. "She would've… she tried…"

"Anna—"

"I killed her," she said into her hands. "I killed her. I tried to talk to her—I tried—" Anna's whole body convulsed with another sob. "She was going to kill me," she said, looking up from her hands. "She was going to—but I—"

Jessie pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight and she felt as though he was the only thing holding her together.

"I could have killed that woman in the church, Jessie. It didn't have to be you," she murmured as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"It did," he said. "It did."

.

"Don't do anything stupid," Anna said, hugging Glenn to her.

"No promises," he replied with an easy grin as they pulled away. Anna shook her head but smiled nonetheless as she turned to Maggie, giving the woman a tight hug before stepping back. She turned around to face Rick and Abraham as they spoke.

"This is our route to DC," Abraham said, handing Rick a folded map. "We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well… you got our destination."

Rick unfolded the map and Anna could just see the jagged black line that ran from Houston to Washington.

"Once Eugene gets to the big brains left up there, things are gonna bounce back," Abraham said, putting his hands on his hips. "This group should be there for it." He and Rick looked to each other for a moment before he continued. "You should be there for it."

"They will be," Maggie assured.

"We will," Michonne agreed.

Rick looked between the two women then to Anna. As much as Anna believed all of it was an elaborate lie, she also wanted to believe that it was real. So, she nodded, and Rick turned back to Abraham.

"We will."

"Let's go," Abraham called, turning from the group and heading for the bus. Rosita and Eugene followed after him. Glenn, Maggie, and Tara gave final hugs to the others before they, too, climbed aboard the white church bus.

Anna stood with the rest of the group on and around the porch as they waited just a few minutes longer for Daryl and Carol to return. Anna stared at the tree line, hoping that any second they'd come back and they would all load up and leave the church behind.

But, they didn't, and Abraham was on a schedule. Rick gave a single nod to the man and the doors squealed shut. The engine stuttered to life and they pulled away.

Anna's heart hurt as she watched the bus disappear past the trees. It was one thing to lose a friend to a walker or a bullet or forced a part by circumstance. It was an entirely different thing when a friend walked away willingly. After all they had been through, after finding each other, they were being separated all over again.

Finally turning away from the road, Anna peered through the open doors of the church. Inside, Jessie sat in the front pew, alone, his face in his hands. She could just barely see his shoulders shaking.

She went to step forward, to comfort him, but she paused. Time. They both just needed some time. To process – to accept the facts as they were. So, she stepped off the porch and walked around to the side of the church. With a sigh, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

_I'm sorry._


	9. Chapter Eight

Anna shoved a few basic supplies into a green, army duffel and she checked the clip of her handgun before she tucked it into her belt. She double checked to ensure she had a hunting knife strapped to her thigh.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" Rick asked as he and Tyreese walked through the front doors, wiping sweat and dirt from their faces.

"I'm gonna do a little hunting," Anna explained, shouldering her rifle as she stood in front of the door.

"I don't want anyone goin' anywhere alone," Rick said.

Anna opened her mouth to protest when Jessie spoke up.

"I'll go with her," he said as he stood from his pew at the front of the church.

Anna watched as he gathered his own weapons before he brushed past them to head outside. It would be an understatement to say that Anna was worried about her brother. He hadn't spoken to anyone since their conversation – just sat in the front pew with his head bowed.

"Be back before dark," Rick said, giving her a look she could only describe as parental.

She nodded and left, jogging down the stairs to stand beside her brother at the edge of the road.

"We'll head towards the stream. Then circle back," she said, pointing out their route. She looked up at the sky, measuring the angle of the sun, and determined it was just past noon.

He said nothing as he nodded and the two were off, disappearing into the woods. They heard birds chirping high up in the trees, saw the shed skin of a couple of snakes in the grass. They even came upon a few burrows, but to their frustration, they were abandoned. The trees shaded the woods from the brunt of the sun's rays, but their foreheads still beaded with sweat, and they took turns sipping water from the canteen Anna had packed.

It was some time before Anna found a set of animal tracks – a rabbit from what she could tell. She pointed the tracks out to Jessie, only receiving a slight nod.

"You know, you didn't have to come," Anna muttered as she stood.

"Nothing else to do except sit there and wait," he grumbled with a shrug, shaking his head. His body posture was tense, like he was waiting for something to happen.

"What? Would you rather have gone with Abraham?" He didn't answer, and she raised her brows. "I thought you said DC was bullshit."

"It is. But at least we'd be doing something. Maybe we'd be better off."

"We aren't going anywhere without Daryl and Carol," Anna reminded.

"Yeah, so I've heard. We have to wait for your boyfriend," he said almost mockingly. Anna narrowed her eyes at him.

"The tracks go this way," she said, letting the irritation seep into her voice. They followed the trail in silence after that. The tracks finally led them to the stream – she guessed that the rabbit had come by here for a drink.

Anna crouched beside it, set her rifle down, and splashed cool water up her arms before wiping her neck with her wet hands. She squinted up at the sun. It had moved a considerable amount since they'd left the church.

"We should start heading back soon," Anna said, looking over her shoulder at Jessie.

He stared off into the tree line, his brow furrowed. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, if he was okay. But, instead, she asked herself what good it would do.

She cast her eyes about, searching for any signs of the rabbit when she found some droppings a few feet away from the tree line. She picked up her rifle and investigated the area, picking up the trail again.

"This way," she said, leading them on.

Focused entirely on the hunt, Anna found relief from her thoughts. It was easy to let her frustrations and worries slip away as they followed the trail further and further into the woods. Anna heard a rustling.

_The rabbit,_ she thought as she carefully made her way around a bush that reached above her head, aiming her rifle to take the shot as soon as the creature came into view.

And there the rabbit was, torn to pieces as three walkers pulled at what little meat and organs were left on its bones. Anna took a step back as one walker, then the others, looked up to see her standing there.

"Damn it!" Jessie rushed past her.

He rammed his blade into the first walker as it stood and kicked the second back to the ground before he fell onto the third walker and began to stab at its face over and over again. The second walker scrambled to its feet and Anna stepped forward, unsheathing her knife as she let her rifle fall to her side. She dispatched it with ease.

"GAH!"

Anna turned, eyes wide as Jessie fell back, a fourth walker shoving him up against a tree. She ran forward and plunged her knife into the back of its head, throwing it to the ground.

"Are you okay?" She asked, out of breath, her chest tight. She took long, deep inhales.

"I had him!" Jessie snapped as he reeled back and threw his foot into the limp walkers side. He kicked it again and again, his face contorted in rage.

"You need to stop," Anna said evenly, wiping the blood from her knife and sheathing it. "Jessie, you need to—"

"I should have been there!" He shouted, stomping his boot into the walkers face, crushing it. "I should have been there to protect you!" He brought his boot down again with a disgusting squelch. "You needed me and I wasn't there!"

Anna grabbed Jessie's shoulders and pulled him away from the walker. "I need you here – now. Alive," she stated firmly. "What happened – it happened. Getting yourself killed trying to protect me isn't going to change that."

He continued to glare down at the walker, his face pinched.

"I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle myself."

"I should've… I should've—"

"Hey," she called softly, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. "We're here now. We're both alive. That's what matters."

"I know…" he breathed. "I know. I'm just…" Jessie squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose you again."

Anna pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around him as he pressed his face into the side of her head. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured. "Not if I can help it."

Jessie nodded, pulling away from her, and she saw the wetness on his cheeks. He wiped at his face, turning to look at the carnage. Anna kept her hands on his shoulders as she followed his gaze.

"Guess we lost the rabbit," he mumbled. Anna sighed, reminding herself that they still had plenty of food left at the church. "I'm never going to stop trying to protect you," Jessie said. "But…, I promise I'll stop treating you like you haven't made it this far on your own."

"I wasn't on my own," Anna reminded him.

"Okay." Jessie nodded. "So, you had some help. But, when you were alone, when they weren't there to help. When I wasn't—" he took a deep breath. "You didn't give up. That was all you."

Anna gave his shoulders a squeeze before dropping her hands to her sides and stepping away to grin up at him.

"Love you, big brother," she said, because that's all she could think to say.

"Love you, too, little sister." Jessie took a step away from her, rubbing at his eyes. "Now, let's go before your friends come looking for us," he said, clapping her on the shoulder before he started off due West.

"Jess," Anna called, a small smirk playing at her lips as he turned back to her. "The church is this way," she said, pointing Northeast.

.

By the time the two returned to the church, the sun was already touching the horizon, painting the sky brilliant shades of oranges, reds and yellows. Rick, Tyreese, and Michonne were standing around the porch, evidently waiting for their return.

"We were just about to head out lookin' for you two," Rick explained as Jessie and Anna neared the church.

"Doesn't look like you caught anything," Michonne commented.

"We were tracking a rabbit, but some walkers got it before we did," she said simply, giving her best indifferent shrug. Truthfully, she was a little peeved they hadn't caught anything – she'd been so focused on the rabbit, she hadn't even thought of catching some squirrel.

"It's alright," Rick assured. "We've got plenty of baked beans and carrots. Already got some cooking."

He pulled one of the doors open and out wafted the scent of a can of baked beans over an open fire. The five headed inside and Anna grimaced at the smell of canned carrots. She'd always been picky about her carrots, but she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers – in the end times especially.

Anna helped Carl dish out dinner, making up a plate for Sasha, who had isolated herself in the back corner of the church. Anna went to walk over to the woman when Rick stepped in front of her, gently taking the plate from her hands.

"It should be me," he insisted quietly.

She glanced back at Sasha and nodded, relinquishing the food to Rick. Without another word, Rick walked up and sat down beside Sasha, holding the plate out to her. Anna turned away then and sat beside Jessie in the center aisle, accepting her own plate of food.

Anna wasn't going to pretend she knew what Sasha was going through. After all, she had miraculously found both her brother and Daryl – even if Daryl was missing in action.

Looking down at her plate of food, Anna grimaced at the way the orange carrots seeped into her baked beans.

_"You don't know what it is to be hungry."_

Anna shuddered. No matter how hungry she was, she would never do what those people had done. She ate every last bite of the carrot-tainted beans and even stomached the carrots. No, she had no right to be picky.

.

After dinner, everyone settled down for the night, cleaning away the dishes and blowing out the candles. Anna settled down in one of the pews with Jessie, rifle at her side. She tapped her foot against the arm rest, drumming her fingers on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling.

Her eyes caught movement and stilled as she craned her neck to watch as Father Gabriel slipped out the front door, where she knew Michonne was sitting on the porch. Once the door shut behind him, she resumed her foot tapping and staring at the ceiling.

"You think he regrets it?" Jessie asked.

"Regrets what?" Anna replied.

"Taking us in – I'm glad he did, but… after everything… you think he regrets it?" Jessie elaborated.

Anna went to answer when Gabriel rushed back inside, holding the doors closed as he frantically looked about the room. Anna sat up, picking up her rifle.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked as everyone got to their feet, weapons ready.

"There was a noise – someone—something is coming," Gabriel stammered, swallowing nervously.

"Michonne?" Anna asked, making her way around the pews to one of the windows to peer outside. She saw three figures in the dark, one of them facing the other two and away from the church. Anna squinted, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light.

She could make out Michonne, the figure facing away from her. Anna's breath caught in her throat and she rushed to the door, ripping it open to run outside.

"Daryl!" She called, jogging down the porch steps and over to him. Her original intent was to hug him and check him over for injury, but she found herself stopping just a foot away and glaring up at him. "Where the hell have you been?" She demanded.

She could hear the others filing out of the church after her, and she remembered the third figure. Anna turned, expecting to see Carol when her eyes landed on a scrawny teenager. Rick stopped beside her.

"Where's Carol?"


	10. Chapter Nine

"So, it was just you and Beth after?" Carol asked from the passenger seat of the old car.

"Yeah," Daryl replied, one hand on the steering wheel. He kept his eyes on the vehicle in front of them, staying as far back as he could to not be spotted.

"You save her?" Carol pushed. Daryl considered his answer for a moment. Had he?

"She's tough," he finally said. "She saved herself." There was a moment of quiet before Daryl spoke again. "We were out there for a while," he explained. "We got cornered, she got out and… I don't know, she was gone. I came out and a car's pulling out with a white cross on the window."

"Just like that one?"

"Yep," Daryl nodded, looking to the fuel gauge. They wouldn't have enough to make it back. "They're gonna wonder where we went. Tank's runnin' low."

"We can end this quick. Just run him off the road," Carol suggested.

"Nah, we're good for a bit."

"If they're holding her somewhere, we can get it out of the driver," Carol insisted.

"Yeah," Daryl relented. "But if he don't talk, we're back to square one. Right now we got the advantage," he explained. "We'll see who they are. If they're a group, see what they can do. And then we'll do what we gotta do to get her back."

Carol quieted for a moment until she finally relented to his logic.

"They're heading North, I-85."

.

They followed the car into the city, stopping just down the block from it as it idled at the entrance of an alley. There was no movement, and Daryl was starting to worry that they might have been spotted.

"What the hell's he waiting for?" He grumbled.

The car shut off and Daryl did the same. Finally, the passenger door opened and a man stepped out. "There's two of 'em." Daryl squinted through the dark as the man disappeared behind a building. "Is that a cop?"

He heard the telltale sound of a gun being pulled and cocked and he turned to see Carol holding her revolver in her lap. She looked at him and shrugged.

"They might've seen us," she reasoned.

They waited and watched in silence until a walker slammed itself against the passenger window, snarling and pawing at the glass. The cop returned, dragging a bike to the side before he started back to his car. The cop paused, catching sight of the walker banging against their car, but ultimately climbed back into the hatchback, driving off down the road.

Daryl turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered.

"Aw, shit," He sneered as the walker continued to bang and the cops disappeared. "Tank's tapped," he griped. "They'd have taken the bypass and they didn't. They must be holed up in the city somewhere," Daryl deduced as he saw more walkers filtering out of the shadows, attracted by the noise. "We gotta move, find someplace to hole up till sunlight."

"I know a place just a couple of blocks from here," Carol offered as she cracked her window. She shoved her knife into the walkers forehead before turning back to Daryl. "We can make it."

.

Carol led them down an alley and to the back of a white building where they came upon a locked door. Daryl worked his knife into the seam to pry it open while Carol kept watch, taking out any walkers that got too close.

"Two more," she informed

"I almost got it." And with that, the door popped open. "Come on," he called, looking back to Carol as she stared down the alley. He could just see the tall shadows of walkers approaching before Carol turned and followed him inside.

They made their way cautiously through the dark hallways when Daryl spotted a walker lying dead on the ground with a set of keys on its hip. Just in case, he snagged them, stuffing them in his pocket, and continued after Carol into an office.

"You used to work here or somethin'?" Daryl asked as he shined his light around the small space, two doors on the adjacent walls.

"Somethin'," Carol muttered.

Daryl tried the door with the glass face and found it locked before he and Carol slid the desk in front of it to make sure it stayed that way. Carol went to the other door of solid metal with a small, shatter-proof window, finding that it, too, was locked.

"Hold on," Daryl said, pulling the keys from his pocket and handing them to her.

It came open easily, and Carol led the way through what looked like some sort of living room with a receptionist desk and into a room. Inside was a bunk-bed, a short bookshelf just beside the door, and a dresser on the far wall.

"What is this place?" Daryl asked, shining his light on a book atop the shelf.

_Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse._

"It's temporary housing," Carol explained.

"You came here?"

"We didn't stay."

Daryl set his crossbow down on the bookshelf, standing it against the wall as he continued to stare at the book. Its existence made him feel a lot of things that all culminated into a single emotion – anger. So, he turned away from it.

"I'll take the top bunk," Carol sighed. "I think that one's more your style."

Daryl looked to the bottom bunk, made up in a light pink blanket, and chuckled, easily forgetting about the book that didn't matter anymore as he dropped his jacket on top of it.

"You should sleep. I'll take first watch," Carol said, heading for the window overlooking the roof of the building next door.

"This is locked up pretty tight," Daryl commented.

"I know."

"Then we're good."

"I'll keep first watch. I don't mind," Carol insisted.

Daryl shook his head and sat down on the bottom bunk. "Suit yourself," he said, running his hand down his face.

"Anna's probably awake wondering where you are," Carol said, staring out the window.

"She doesn't get much sleep, anyhow," Daryl mumbled, massaging the back of his neck. Of course, that didn't make him just disappearing on her any better. He felt guilty for running off with no explanation.

"At least she has her brother, now."  
Daryl hummed at that. He'd overheard some of the remarks Jessie had made about their relationship – specifically, the age difference. It had irritated Daryl at first, but now he was wondering if Anna felt the same way.

"What?" Carol asked, pursing her lips as she turned to face him. "You're not jealous of him, are you?"

"The hell would I be jealous for?" Daryl huffed.

"You don't exactly seem excited to have him around," Carol said with a shrug.

"I don't even know him," Daryl grumbled, reasoning that Jessie didn't know him either – or Anna for that matter.

"No… I guess you don't," Carol relented. "Think it's gonna affect you and Anna?"

"Why would it?"

"I don't know," Carol shrugged again. "I mean, you're quite a bit older than her, she's his little sister…," she trailed off, tilting her head.

"Anna's an adult," Daryl said firmly. "I don't care if he likes me or not – it's not up to him."

"You're right," Carol said, easing off. "Besides… I think Anna loves you too much to let anyone or anything come between you two."  
"Right," Daryl scoffed.

Daryl balked at the notion. He had never considered the possibility that Anna might love him. They'd been _together_ for roughly a year and he was still trying to figure out why Anna bothered with him. Sometimes, a bitter part of him – which was to say, most of him – believed she was only with him for the protection he offered. But, then he'd remind himself that he hadn't always been able to protect her, and that she was very capable of protecting herself.

But his relationship with Anna wasn't really what was bothering Carol. He could see it. She was just trying to fill the silence.

"Why don't you say what's really on your mind? Besides my personal business," he grumbled.

"You said we get to start over," Carol said after a moment.

"Yeah."

"Did you?" She asked, her arms wrapped around herself as she looked to him, eyes wide.

"I'm tryin'."

Carol turned back to the window and there was a brief silence between them until Carol finally spoke again.

"I don't think we get to save people anymore," she said, her voice hushed.

"Then why are you here?"

She looked back at him, and he saw just how tired she was.

"I'm tryin'," she said before walking over and collapsing on the bunk beside him.

They fell back, staring at the bottom of the top bunk, Carol tracing circles into the base board, Daryl drumming his fingers on his stomach.

"When we were out by the car…," he started, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer. "What if I didn't show up?"  
"... I still don't know…"

Distantly, they could hear a loud banging. The two climbed to their feet and grabbed their weapons to investigate the noise. Down the hall, behind a frosted glass door, was a walker, a silhouette against the glass. It pressed itself against the door, hitting and pawing at it as it snarled.

Daryl grimaced, deciding on the best way to deal with the nuisance, when a smaller shadow appeared beside it. He looked to Carol, concerned at the look in her eyes.

She stepped forward, reaching for the door, and he quickly took her hand, holding it from turning the knob.

"You don't have to," he assured.

She went to open the door and he shut it.

"You don't."

.

Daryl stood on the rooftop, staring at the flames as they burned away the corpses. He hadn't been able to sleep. So, after Carol finally dozed off, he went back and put down those two walkers trapped inside that office. Then he carried their bodies to the roof and burned them.

The sun was starting to rise, painting the city in a dreary blue. He heard the sound of gravel crunching under boots and Carol stood beside him, watching the fire consume what was left of a mother and daughter.

"Thank you," she whispered.

All he could do was nod.

.

"That car was headed downtown. I say we get up in one of the tall ones, get ourselves a view, see what we see," Daryl suggested, pulling the strap of his satchel over his head and adjusting it on his shoulder.

"We can stay close to the building and keep quiet, but sooner or later, we're gonna be drawin' 'em," Carol warned.  
He nodded his agreement, grabbing a yellow pad of paper and shoving it into his bag before heading out. The two made their way onto the street, circling around to one of the main roads where a gaggle of walkers – too many for them to handle – congregated. They hid behind a building and Daryl glanced around the corner, spotting a parking garage attached to another building by an enclosed bridge.

"Alright," he said, ducking back behind the building. "We can get up there. There's a bridge," he informed as he dug through his bag for the pad of paper he'd taken earlier. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the paper on fire, tossing it into the street away from the entrance of the parking garage.

As soon as the way was clear, they ran across the street, crouched to avoid calling attention to themselves. Daryl shot a bolt into a single walker in their path, yanking it out of its head as he ran past.

Without any further delays, Carol and Daryl found the door to the bridge and pushed their way in. Daryl paused just inside, furrowing his brow at the sight. Scattered along the floor were walkers snarling and snapping at them from sleeping bags. On the far end were two tents, walkers pawing at the canvas from within.

"Some days…," he started, shaking his head as he put down the nearest walker, searching its corpse for anything useful. "I don't know what the hell to think," he grumbled.

They put down the rest of the sleeping-bag walkers and stepped around the tents, deciding the walkers inside weren't much of a threat.

Daryl pushed the doors open as far as he could, finding them chained on the other side, and Carol shoved her rifle through before following it easily. She held the door open for him and he squeezed through, his much larger frame making it a struggle.

"Good thing we skipped breakfast," Daryl joked bitterly, finally making it through.

They followed the hallway down until Daryl found a large office filled with expensive looking furniture and decorations with a good view of the city. He whistled for Carol's attention and led the way inside.

Carol stood at the window, staring out over the destruction of Atlanta. "How did we get here?" She asked.

"We just did," Daryl hummed. "You know… Anna told me she and Anderson and their buddy, Evan – they were in the city just before they dropped the bombs. They were on the outskirts when the Napalm came down," he explained, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the charred and destroyed buildings.

When she had told him, he'd wanted to call bullshit. He didn't want to believe that she had been so close to being blown to hell and back. But, the way she had described the sound, the haunted look that came over her when she explained the way the city caught fire – he couldn't think of any reason for her to lie.

"You still haven't asked me what happened," Carol started. "After I met up with Tyreese, the girls…."

"Yeah, I know what happened," Daryl sighed. "They ain't here."

"It was worse than that," she said and from the corner of his eye, he could see the pained look on her face.

"The reason I said we get to start over is 'cause we gotta," Daryl insisted. "The way it was…" he trailed off. They couldn't be the people they were before. Not anymore.

"Yeah," Carol agreed.

Daryl scanned what he could see of the city, disquieted by the topic. They needed to focus on finding clues. A white shape in the distance caught his eye. He squinted, cupping his hands around his eyes as he leaned against the window, trying to block the glare of the sun.

"You see somethin'?" Carol asked.

"I don't know," Daryl said, standing back. "Hand me that rifle," he said, holding out his hand. She passed him her rifle and he braced it against his shoulder, peering through the scope.

Sure enough, hanging off an overpass, was a white van, two white crosses painted on the back windows.

"Right there," Daryl said, jabbing his finger against the window as he passed the rifle back to Carol. She squinted through the scope to see the van as well.

"It's been there a while," she mused. "Definitely one of 'em."

"It's definitely some kind of lead."

Carol stepped away from the window, lowering the rifle. She dug through her bag and pulled out a canteen. "We should fill up," she suggested, heading over to the water dispenser.

"Alright," Daryl relented, as he turned away from the window. His eyes landed on a painting hung on the wall between the two windows. He huffed.

"What?" Carol asked after taking a sip of water.

"I bet this cost some rich prick a lot of money," he commented. "Looks like a dog sat in paint," he waved his hand over the painting, "wiped its ass all over the place." He sneered at it.

"Really?" Carol asked. "I kinda like it."

"Stop," Daryl guffawed.

"I'm serious," Carol scowled. "You don't know me."

"Yeah, you keep tellin' yourself that," Daryl said, rolling his eyes.

Once the two had filled up on water, they headed back the way they came. Carol went through the chained double doors to the bridge first, tossing her rifle out in front of her. After she made it through, Daryl squeezed through again, rolling his eyes at the effort.

"Daryl, don't," Carol called, but it was too late.

"Get up," said a scrawny kid pointing Carol's rifle at him. Daryl withheld an irritated groan as he got to his feet. "Hands up, both of you," the kid demanded and they did. "Lay down your crossbow."

"You got some sack on you," Daryl said as he glared at him, but he didn't move to lay his crossbow down.

"Look, nobody has to get hurt. I just need weapons, that's it," the kid insisted. "So, please, lay down your crossbow."

With a sigh, Daryl pulled his crossbow from his shoulders and laid it on the ground.

"Back up," the kid commanded, and they did.

He knelt down to pick up his crossbow, keeping the rifle trained on him. Daryl thought for a split second that he could easily take the kid down, but he did not want to risk getting Carol or himself shot today. Not when they were so close to finding Beth.

"Sorry about this," the kid said, backing away as he pulled out a knife and stabbed it into the nearest tent, pulling down to create an opening for the walkers to get through. "You look tough. You'll be alright," he reasoned.

Daryl noticed his limp as he rushed away before the walkers came at them. He took out his hunting knife and took out the first two walkers while Carol took out the last one with her revolver. Then she aimed at the kid. Daryl slapped her hand down just as she pulled the trigger and the kid disappeared through the double doors on the other side of the bridge.


	11. Chapter Ten

"Three bullets," Carol hissed as they made their way through an empty floor in search of some emergency exit stairs. "We're in the middle of a city. He was stealing our weapons," she griped. "Did you think I was gonna kill him? I was aiming for his leg! Could that have killed him? Maybe, I don't know. But he was stealing our weapons."

"He's a damn kid!" Daryl snapped.

"Without weapons we could die. Beth could die," Carol countered.

"We'll find more weapons," Daryl grumbled.

"I don't want you to die. I don't want Beth to die. I don't want anybody at the church to die – but I can't stand around and watch it happen either," Carol huffed. "I can't. That's why I left. I just had to be… somewhere else," she admitted.

"Well, you ain't somewhere else!" he shouted, whirling around to face her. "You're right here. Tryin'." Daryl couldn't help but wonder what that even meant now.

"Look, you're not who you were and neither am I," she sighed, setting her bag on the ground. "I don't know if I believe in God anymore – or heaven – but if I'm going to hell," she raised her eyebrows at him before he turned to find the emergency exit. "I'm making damn sure I'm holding it off as long as I can."

Daryl's lip curled in annoyance and he shoved on the door to find that it, too, was locked. He pulled his hunting knife back out and jammed it into the seam and started to work the door open.

He was angry. He was hurt – but most of all, he was disappointed. Was this what trying looked like?

With another frustrated yank on his knife the door popped open. He turned back to Carol as she picked up her bag. Her grip on the strap slipped and the bag tumbled to the ground, pencils, pens, a box cutter, and a book spilling out onto the floor.

_Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse._

Daryl looked up from the book to glare at Carol, snatching it off the ground. He opened his mouth to say something biting, but nothing came out. What would he even say? It wasn't like Carol didn't know – didn't understand. So, instead, he threw the book to the ground and left down the stairs.

.

The trip to the overpass happened without much incident and with absolutely no conversation. There was nothing to say that would have mattered, anyway. Daryl needed to take his time and focus on finding Beth. Not to talk about his feelings.

By the time they reached the van, they had managed to attract the attention of several walkers who slowly shambled their way over. They needed to get in and get out.

"Alright, let's get this done," he said, popping open the back doors of the van. It rattled as it hung over the side of the overpass.

"It's not stable. I'm lighter," Carol said.

Daryl scoffed and jumped up, ignoring the loud groan the van gave at his added weight. He got to his feet inside, climbed to the driver's seat, and began rifling through the visor, scanning the papers he found. Carol climbed in after him and started going through the glove box.

He came up with nothing, and it seemed Carol had had the same luck as she glanced out the passenger window.

"There's more coming," she informed. "We're gonna have to fight through."

"Yeah, I see 'em," Daryl grumbled. He climbed to the back of the van, followed by Carol, and started rummaging through what little was back there. He flipped over a gurney and found three letters written on the bottom in black sharpie.

"GMH, what's that? A hospital?" He asked.

"I don't know. Grady Memorial, maybe?" Carol offered, more concerned with the gathering crowd of walkers.

"Grady, the white crosses—it might be where they're holing up!" Daryl said, excited at the prospect of getting closer to finding Beth.

They hopped out of the van and were immediately swarmed. Daryl pulled his knife while Carol fired her last rounds from her revolver.

"Daryl!" She called as he put down the closest walker and kicked the next away from him.

"Go, go, go, go!" He commanded, and they jumped back into the van.

"Anything we can use?" Carol asked, desperately searching for a solution.

"Nothin' but what we got," Daryl said.

And then a terrible, stupid, ridiculous idea came into his head that he knew he would regret. But what other option did they have? He climbed back into the driver's seat, Carol into the passenger's.

"Alright, buckle up," he said, pulling the seat belt around his body. "Hold on."

He braced his hands against the dash and Carol grabbed his hand. The van rocked, shuttered, and moved forward. His stomach rose into his throat and for a moment he was a little kid again with Merle riding a roller coaster they couldn't afford. And then they were hitting the ground hard and his bones felt like jelly as they vibrated under his skin.

"We're okay," Carol breathed. "We're okay."

He and Carol looked to each other and he felt a smile spreading across his face until there was a hard thud against the windshield, the glass cracking as a walker hit it. For the next few minutes, they waited inside the van, nursing their aching bones as it rained walkers.

.

"Here," Daryl said, holding out the canteen of water. After walkers stopped tumbling off the overpass, they had limped their way into a depot, finding a safe place to hide and recoup.

"I'm fine," she said, grimacing as she held her side.

"Prove it." Reluctantly, she reached up with her good arm and took the canteen, taking a sip of water with great effort. "How bad is it?" He asked, chiding himself for the ridiculous plan.

"I've had worse," Carol assured.

He leaned forward as Carol pulled her collar aside for him to see the dark purple and splotchy bruise on her shoulder.

"Damn, that was stupid," Daryl sighed, straightening.

"We made good time down," Carol teased. Daryl scoffed and sat down beside her.

"We don't tell Anna that happened," he said, shaking his head.

"My lips are sealed," Carol said with a smirk. "There's only three blocks between us and Grady."

"We need to find a place nearby, scope it out, see what we can see," he explained.

"You really think we're gonna find out what we need to know just by watching?" Carol asked.

"It's where we start," he said, nodding. "Come on."

.

Eventually, Carol and Daryl made it to another office building just a block away from Grady. On their way through, they passed a walker with a machete. Daryl put it down and took the bladed weapon.

Beside the walker was a plastic bag containing smaller bags of potato chips. His stomach twisted at the reminder of food.

"It's them," Carol called from the window. He approached and stared at the tall hospital building.

"Alright," he said, handing Carol a bag of chips. "Let's see what we can see."

.

Carol sat on the window ledge, picking at her chips while Daryl stood, greedily eating every bit of chip and crumb he could find in the bag. Once he was sure it was empty, he crumpled the plastic up and tossed it to the ground. Looking to Carol, he finally decided to break the silence.

"You said I ain't like how I was before?" He asked.

"Yeah," Carol said.

"How was I?"

Ever since Daryl had calmed down from his initial upset with how things played out back at the office building – with the kid and Carol's willingness to shoot him – her words had been bothering Daryl. He couldn't stop wondering what she had meant, how exactly he had changed. Maybe Carol saw something he couldn't – maybe the others did, too.

Carol pursed her lips, thinking. "It's like you were a kid. Now you're a man," she explained.

Daryl considered her answer. He wasn't sure how to feel about it or if he was satisfied.

"What about you?" He asked after a brief pause.

Carol didn't say anything for a moment, staring at her hands as she picked apart a chip. She dropped the crumbs into her bag and wiped off her hands.

"Me and Sophia stayed at that shelter for a day and a half before I went running back to Ed," she sighed. "I went home, I got beat up, life went on, and I just kept praying for something to happen. But, I didn't do anything. Not a damn thing."

Daryl watched her as she stared out the window, seeming to relive the memories of someone else as she explained herself.

"Who I was with him… she got burned away. And I was happy about that – I mean, not happy, but…" she trailed off, looking to Daryl. "And at the prison I got to be who I always thought I should be – thought I should've been…. And then she got burned away…."

Carol shook her head, turning to look back at the hospital. Daryl bowed his head, wondering if that was what Anna and Rick and Michonne and everyone else felt. If who they were just got burned away.

"Everything now just… consumes you," Carol said, cutting into his thoughts.

"Well, hey," he called softly. She looked to him. "We ain't ashes."

They didn't say anything for a moment as Daryl's affirmation sunk in. There really was nothing more to say.

Somewhere in the building, a door slammed shut. Daryl and Carol jumped to their feet, grabbing their bags and weapons and going to investigate the noise. They followed the sounds of a walker snarling down a hallway. They came upon the corpse pinned to a wall, one of Daryl's crossbow bolts through its neck.

"Is that yours?" Carol asked from behind him.

"Yeah," Daryl sneered, plunging the machete through the walker's head before he pulled his bolt from its neck.

The second the bolt came out, rapid gunfire erupted from a room down the hall. Carol rushed forward first, coming around the corner just as a walker fell on her. She cried out in pain as she fell to the floor, unable to use her bruised right arm to defend herself. Daryl quickly ran over, catching sight of a tall lanky figure running away down the hall, and chopped the machete into the walkers head.

"Oh, God," Carol groaned. "I'm good," she assured as Daryl hovered over her. "I'm good. You go," she said.

With her insistence that she was fine, Daryl took off after the figure. He followed the sounds of a struggle and came upon the thief trying to push a bookshelf out from in front of a door. Daryl dropped his weapons and gear and sprinted forward, throwing his whole weight into the kid, shoving him into the bookshelf before they collapsed to the ground.

With a groan, the bookshelf leaned forward and Daryl rolled out of the way as it fell, pinning the thief to the ground. A walker came, pressing itself against the door the bookshelf had previously been holding shut, trying to squeeze through the sliver of space between the door and the frame.

"Plea—please!" The thief begged, grunting as he tried to lift the bookshelf. "I had to protect myself."

"Why you followin' us?" Daryl snapped, leaning over him as he gathered their stolen weapons.

"I—I didn't, I swear! I thought you followed me," he insisted.

"Bullshit," Daryl grumbled.

Daryl spotted a white box of Morley Lights and set his crossbow down, picking the cigarettes up. He pulled one from the pack and stuck it between his lips.

"Come on, man. Please! Please, please," the kid begged.

"Nah," Daryl said, lighting the cigarette. "I already helped you once. It ain't happenin' again." He glanced over at the walker as it continued to squeeze through the door. "Have fun with Hoss over there," he said as he picked his crossbow up and walked away. He ignored the continued cries of _No_ from the kid.

"Daryl," Carol called. "Daryl, stop!"

"You almost died 'cause of him!" Daryl snapped, whirling around.

"But I didn't," Carol countered weakly.

Daryl looked between Carol and the kid before scoffing. "Nah, let him be."

"I'm sorry! Please, I'm sorry!"

"Daryl!"

He ignored the both of them as he continued back down the hallway. He heard the thud of the walker falling against the bookshelf, and he paused.

"_He's a damn kid!"_

Daryl grimaced as his own words echoed back at him. _Damn,_ he thought, turning back firing a bolt into the walkers skull just before it bit into the kids face. As he walked back towards them, Carol pulled the dead walker off the bookshelf so that Daryl could lift it.

Once it was up high enough, Carol helped the thief slide out from under the shelf and Daryl let it fall back with a crack.

"Thank you, thank you!" the kid said, out of breath.

Daryl stepped over the shelf, approaching Carol as she climbed to her feet.

"You okay?" He asked as the kid frantically limped to the windows. "You okay?" He asked again.

"I'm still here," she said, nodding.

"I gotta go. I gotta go," the kid hissed. Daryl turned to face him. "They're gonna come. They probably heard the shot. If they find me…"

"Who?" Daryl asked.

"Them. People at the hospital," the boy said, trying to make his escape.

"Wait, wait, wait, just tell us—is there a blonde girl there? You see a blonde girl?" He asked, forcing the kid to take a step back.

"Beth?" the kid asked. "You know her?" Daryl exchanged a look with Carol, the kid turning between the two. "She helped me get out, but she's still there," he explained.

Carol glanced out the window, "They're coming," she warned.

"We gotta go now. We gotta go. We gotta go," the kid said, frantic again.

Daryl led the way to the first floor as Carol and the kid limped behind him.

"The building next door has a basement," the kid explained. "It's clear. We'll be safe—Ah!" he said. As he was trying to run, he fell to the ground.

"Go, I got him!" Daryl said, gesturing for Carol to continue on. "Come on, get up. Get up," he grumbled, hauling the kid to his feet.

"Okay," he groaned. As they made it to the lobby, Carol stepped outside, checking the area as she stepped out into the street. Tires squealed and a hatchback came to a screeching halt as it rammed into Carol. She hit the windshield before sliding down the hood to the ground.

Daryl rushed forward, but the kid grabbed him.

"No, no, no! Wait, wait, wait!" He hissed.

"Let go of me!" Daryl demanded.

"Wait! They can help her," the kid explained. "They're the only ones who can. They have medicine, machines, a doctor. You go out there, you'll have to kill them, okay? And then she can't get their help. Is that what you want?"

Daryl ground his teeth as two men came out with a gurney and loaded Carol up in the car.

"We can get her back. We can get Beth back," the kid assured.

"What's it gonna take?" Daryl asked as the car sped off.  
"A lot," the kid sighed. "They got guns, people."

Daryl's lip curled as he paced, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach.

"So do we."


	12. Chapter Eleven

After Daryl explained to the group everything that had occurred in Atlanta, it was agreed that they would head out in the morning to get Beth and Carol back. With a grim face, Rick suggested they all turn in for the night. Daryl, still wired from the drive, laid down on the floor staring up at the plain white ceiling of the church. Carefully, Anna lowered herself to the floor to rest beside him, pressing her forehead against his arm.

"You left," she muttered quietly, having no intention for any of the others to hear their exchange.

"I had to—"

"I know," she assured. "I was just worried. You left and things happened and I'm glad you weren't here for it. But you're back, and if all goes well, this time tomorrow Carol and Beth will be, too."

"We're gonna get 'em back," Daryl said, his voice low, his mind clearly made up.

"Whatever it takes," Anna affirmed. She looked at him then and Bob's words echoed in her head.

_You need to tell him how you feel._

She opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. It wasn't the time, she told herself. They had bigger problems. She settled for pressing her lips against his shoulder, but quickly pulled away at the sound of approaching footsteps. They both looked up to see Jessie climbing into the pew above them.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Jessie asked, pausing as he settled into the pew.

"Nope," Anna said as Daryl grumbled "Yeah."

Anna didn't miss the triumphant smirk on Jessie's face as he laid out on the pew, one arm under his head while resting the other on his stomach. His elbow hung over the edge of the seat, and Anna reached up, flicking it as hard as she could.

Jessie hissed and held his elbow. "What was that for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anna said, feigning innocence while Daryl chuckled.

Jessie huffed and rolled onto his side, his back facing them. Anna got comfortable, turning back to Daryl. She felt him move and she pulled back only for his hand to slip into hers. She smiled and pressed her forehead against his shoulder again, closing her eyes and letting her body relax until she finally fell asleep.

.

The next morning, Daryl and Tyreese pulled apart the church organ to use the pipes as spikes around the front porch, and Sasha took an ax to the pews while Rick and Michonne boarded up the windows. Jessie and Anna prepped the black hauling truck Daryl and Noah had taken from the city, filling it with weapons, supplies, and anything else they would need.

"I'm just saying, this is a suicide mission – any mission that involves going into the city is ridiculous and I don't want you going," Jessie explained as he set down a crate of extra bullets.

Anna rolled her eyes. "I've been in the city twice since this all started – I'll be fine," she assured, setting the duffle of rifles down beside the crate.

"When were you in the city?" Jessie asked, furrowing his brow.

"She's coming," Rick said as he approached, dropping off his backpack with the siblings. "We're leaving in five," he informed as he left them to their bickering. Anna smirked at her brother, placing the bag with the rest in the back of the truck.

"You said you would stop treating me like I can't handle myself," Anna reminded, folding her arms over her chest. Jessie sighed, shaking his head.

"I said I would try," he corrected.

"This doesn't seem like trying," Anna huffed, turning to pick up her own bag from the ground. She tossed it inside and climbed in after it, arranging everything in the middle of the truck so that everyone could sit along the walls.

Distantly, she heard Jessie grumble something before stalking off. Anna shook her head, finding a comfortable position behind the passenger's seat. Leaning her head back against the metal wall, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She jumped, opening her eyes when the driver's side door opened and Daryl climbed in. He looked to her and nodded, as Rick got into the passenger's seat. Tyreese, Sasha, Noah, and Jessie joined her in the back of the truck and got settled. Michonne was staying back with Carl, Judith, and Gabriel.

"Everyone ready?" Rick asked, looking over his shoulder at the group. Everyone nodded, their faces set. "Alright, let's go," he said. Tyreese reached up, pulling the back door shut as Daryl started the engine.

They barreled down the road and for a few minutes everything was quiet.

"You said you've been to the city since this whole thing started," Jessie said from where he sat behind Daryl.

"The last time we were going back for one of our own – kind of like now, except there was a bag of guns then, too," Anna explained, glancing at Daryl. He made no outward reaction at the mention of Merle.

"And the first time?" Jessie asked.

"What?" Anna asked, looking back to her brother, confused.

"You said you were there twice – what about the first time?"

Anna paused for a moment, trying to find the best way to tell him that wouldn't lead into a long conversation she had no interest in partaking in.

"It was just before they dropped the bombs," she finally said. Jessie's eyes widened, and all he could seem to do was nod.

"Oh."

.

"At sundown we fire a shot into the air. Get two of them out on patrol. Then once it's dark enough that the rooftop spotter won't see us, we go," Rick explained, gesturing around the rough map drawn on the floor of the old warehouse Daryl brought them to just a few blocks from the hospital.

Anna suddenly felt rather nostalgic as they gathered around and all she could think about was how Glenn should be with them. And Maggie. They were so close to getting Beth back and the woman didn't even know she was alive.

"We cut the locks on one of the stairways, take it to the fifth floor. I open the door, then Daryl takes the guard out—"

"How?" Tyreese asked.

"He slits his throat," Rick said, shrugging his shoulders as if commenting on the weather.

Anna grimaced at the callousness, unconsciously stepping closer to Daryl.

"This is all about us doin' this quiet, keepin' the upper hand. They're not expecting us," Rick continued. "From there, we fan out. Knives and silenced weapons. We need to be fast. Tyreese, Sasha," he said, marking one of the rooms on the map. "You'll take them. Daryl and Jessie, you two take care of whoever is in the kitchen. Anna and I will go for Dawn."

Jessie opened his mouth to protest but Anna held up her hand, effectively silencing him.

"If they're smart," Rick began, glancing between Jessie and Anna. "the rest of them will give up. Then it'll be seven on three. Eight on three once we get a weapon to Beth."

"Fifteen on three. The wards will help," Noah chimed in.

Anna liked their odds – even if she didn't like the plan.

"That's best case," Tyreese interjected. "What's worst case? All it takes is one of those cops goin' down the hall at the wrong time. Then it's not quiet. All hands on deck. We're talking about a lot of bullets flying around."

"If that's what it takes," Sasha said easily.

Anna glanced over to Jessie, exchanging a worried look with him.

"There's got to be another way," Anna said. "_This_ can't be our only option."

"It's not," Tyreese insisted. "If we get a couple of her cops alive out here, we do an even trade," he suggested. "Theirs for ours. Everybody goes home."

"Yeah, I get it. And it might work," Rick said, standing and facing Tyreese. "This _will_ work."

"Nah," Daryl said, calling everyone's attention. "That'll work, too. You say this Dawn, she's just tryin' to keep it together, right?" He asked, looking to Noah.

"Trying and doing are two different things," Noah said.

"You take two of her cops away, what choices does she have? Everybody goes home. Like he says," Daryl said, gesturing to Tyreese.

Rick looked around the room, gauging their opinions on the matter.

"Rick," Anna said and he looked to her. "It's a good plan. And if it doesn't work, we still outnumber them," she assured. "No matter what, we're covered."

She watched as Rick worked his jaw and wiped at his face before he nodded. "Alright," he relented. "Alright. Theirs for ours."

Rick turned away then, heading off with Sasha to scope out the area. Noah, Tyreese and Jessie gathered to discuss the plan further and Anna took a step back, tugging on Daryl's hand. He furrowed his brow at her in confusion, but nonetheless followed her to the far side of the room.

"I'm worried about Rick," she admitted as soon as they were out of earshot, keeping her voice low. "He just seems too… okay with killing." Anna bit her bottom lip, raking her brain for a better way to explain herself.

"Sometimes you gotta be," Daryl said with a shrug.

"You have to be _capable_, but once you start being _okay _with it…," she countered trailing off as she bowed her head, recalling those days at Fort Benning. They had trained her to be capable, willing. Anna shook her head, clearing her thoughts of those memories. "It's a slippery slope."

"Hey," Daryl called gently and she looked up at him. "He's good. You don't need to worry," he assured. "Just focus on what we gotta do."

Anna nodded, scuffing the heel of her boot against the cement floor as Daryl walked away to join the others. Rick had returned with Sasha, crouching to draw a new map. Despite Daryl's resolve, Anna still felt worry coiling around her heart as she approached the group. But, she remained silent as they went over the new plan.

.

They laid in wait within the warehouse, on either side of an exit which opened up into an alley. In her head, Anna went over the plan. Noah would lead the officers into the courtyard, cornering them, and then the six of them would reveal themselves, taking the officers captive.

At the sound of screeching tires, Anna peered out the window and watched as a police cruiser sped past.

"Hold," Rick said, hand on the doorknob.

Anna flinched when she heard a loud thud but held her ground. She adjusted her grip on her rifle, bracing it against her shoulder as she anxiously waited for Rick to open the door.

"Put it down, Noah!"

"Put the gun down!"

At the sound of a car door closing, Rick pulled the door open and as quietly as they could, the group filed out, weapons ready as they made their way down the alley.

"I thought you were smart, Noah. You think we wouldn't hear you?" A woman asked as the group made it to the courtyard. Anna carefully stepped up onto a small porch, hiding behind some crates, and got into position.

"Where are those rotter's you were shooting at?" The male cop asked.

Rick let out a whistle and the man and woman spun around, aiming their weapons. Anna could tell they were quickly realizing they were outnumbered; six guns were trained on them.

"Hands," Rick demanded.

"What do you want?" The woman asked.

"Whatever this is, we can help," the man insisted.

Anna took a moment to actually look at them, at the man's plain features and the woman's high cheekbones and all she could see were people. She wondered if in another life they really cops were. If they watched sports on TV or had a favorite book, and suddenly she couldn't fathom killing them.

"You do what we say, we don't hurt you," Rick explained. There was a brief moment in which Anna could practically see the gears turning in the man's head as he made his calculations.

"Okay," he relented, lowering his gun. The woman, after glancing at her partner, did the same.

"Good. Now turn around. Put your guns on the ground and kneel," Rick instructed.

They did as commanded and Daryl circled around them. Tyreese cut Noah free of his restraints while Daryl and Jessie wrapped zip ties around the officer's hands. Anna stood, lowering her rifle.

"We need to talk," Rick said. "There's water if you need some, and food."

"Mind if I ask you something?" The man asked as Daryl and Jessie hauled them to their feet. "The way you talk, the way you carry yourself… were you a cop?" Rick didn't respond. "Believe it or not, I was, too."

"That's Lamson," Noah explained to Rick. "He'll be down for this. He's one of the good ones."

Tires squealed and Anna whirled around, aiming her rifle at the other entrance of the courtyard as a black Dodge drifted around the corner. Rick and the others opened fire as the vehicle came to a screeching halt between them and the cops.

Out of the passenger window, Anna could see the barrel of an M-16 rifle. She dove out of the way just before the driver laid cover fire, her skin scraping against the pavement, bullets embedding themselves in the wall behind her. Anna scrambled to her feet at the sound of the tires squealing and aimed for the car as it sped around the corner. She fired a single shot, hitting the back tire.

The group took off after the car, down the alleyway. Anna paused at the sight. The car had been abandoned in the middle of what remained of a FEMA evacuation zone. All around were destroyed FEMA trailers and reanimated bodies melted to the asphalt.

_This could've been me,_ she thought, staring at the reaching corpses as she and the others made their way through the carnage.

A loud clang echoed in the distance and she tore her eyes away from the corpse snapping its jaws at her ankles, just out of reach. She saw two of the police officers running behind a building, their hands still tied.

"Two, on me," Rick commanded as he rushed forward. Anna and the others followed, rounding the corner. "Stop!" Rick demanded.

Anna fired a couple of shots aimed just in front of them and they skidded to a halt, one of them slipping and falling to the ground.

"Next one goes into skulls," Rick warned.

Anna turned her back on them, keeping her rifle up as the others surrounded the cops. She scanned the area for the third cop when she noticed something very, very wrong. Daryl was missing.

Without a second thought, she ran back to the charred evacuation zone. She could hear someone following close behind her. She slid around the corner and saw the third cop on top of Daryl, his hands around his throat.

A panicked sort of rage erupted inside her and she raised her rifle, aiming for the back of the man's bald head. She couldn't see his face, or the person he might have been. All she could see were his hands around Daryl's throat.

Just as she was about to squeeze the trigger, Rick stepped up beside her and Daryl slammed a walker head against the side of the man's face twice until the man rolled off him. The man crouched, ready to continue the fight when Anna pulled back on the trigger, taking out a nearby walker.

The stocky, bald man looked up to find Rick and Anna aiming their guns at him.

"Okay," the man sighed holding his hands up. "You win, asshole."

Slowly, Anna lowered her rifle and walked over to Daryl, helping him up. She glanced back at Rick, who had yet to drop his gun as he glared at the cop getting to his feet.

"Rick," Daryl called. Rick didn't respond, the look on his face sending an icy shiver down Anna's spine. "Rick!" Daryl repeated, walking around to stand behind the cop. "Rick, three is better than two," Daryl reasoned.

Rick finally lowered his gun and Daryl stepped forward, taking a zip tie from the man's belt to restrain him. Once Rick turned away, Daryl looked to Anna. She knew he could finally see what Anna was talking about.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Anna sat on an overturned crate, far from the others, as she idly checked over her rifle, a bottle of water at her side. She glanced up to peer at her companions; Rick and Noah crouched over the map of the hospital Noah had scratched into the ground; Daryl, Sasha, and Tyreese were leading the cops over to some pillars to wait; Jessie was standing at the window keeping watch. Anna looked back to her rifle, noting the build-up on a few of its parts. It was past time to clean.

Taking the edge of her shirt and dipping it into her water, Anna wiped at the residue until she'd cleared away most of it. Satisfied with her efforts, she set her rifle aside and hunched over, glaring at the dirt under her fingernails.

"Hey, Rick!" Daryl called, and she looked up. "You're gonna want to hear this," he said, waving Rick over.

The man stood and approached, barely concealed irritation on his face. Anna didn't bother to join them, choosing instead to watch the exchange from her seat. She hadn't been summoned, and if they learned anything new, she would find out soon enough. After a few minutes, Rick led one of the officers to sit at a pillar a few feet away from her. It was Lamson, if she remembered correctly, the average looking man she wouldn't have been able to pick out in a crowd.

Sasha and Tyreese sat the other two officers down further away while Daryl walked over to her. He stood beside her with his arms crossed over his chest as Rick crouched in front of Lamson.

"So, tell me how this works?" Rick asked.

"She'll tell you she won't make a deal. She'll tell you she won't compromise," Lamson explained. Anna pursed her lips. "But she will. She always does," he assured. "Just—just know who you're talking to."

Rick considered his statement for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Anna and Daryl before turning back to Lamson. "Probably heading out in the next 10 minutes or so. Anything you need before we leave?"

"Actually, water would be great," the man said, licking his lips.  
Rick nodded, **"**Will do." Anna stood then, walking over with the water bottle. "Thanks, Sergeant Lamson," Rick said, standing as Anna knelt in front of the officer, pouring a little water into his mouth.  
"My name's Bob," Lamson said, after swallowing.  
"You're still a cop," Rick insisted.  
"No," he said as he shook his head, "No, the real ones are all gone."

Anna glanced up at Rick just as he turned and stalked away. She didn't miss the glint in his eyes at Lamson's words. She wondered if he was right and what that meant – for Rick and for all of them.

Pressing her lips together, Anna turned back to Lamson, capping the water bottle. It was a little over halfway full and room temperature, but it was better than nothing.

"Let us know if you need anything," she said loud enough for the other officers to hear as she stood and followed after Rick, jogging a little to catch up to his long strides.

The two made their way up to the roof of the warehouse, the air humming with the heat of the sun. Rick kept his back to her, his hands on his hips as he scanned the horizon. Anna dug her toe into the roof gravel, unsure of how she should go about addressing her concerns – or if it was even needed.

"You're worried."

Anna let out a heavy sigh, pulling her hair up and off her neck into a high ponytail. Worried was an understatement. She wasn't just worried. She was terrified. She was terrified that if they weren't careful, they would find themselves in a place they couldn't come back from.

"I know you're scared, Anna, but we can't take chances anymore," Rick insisted. "We can't hesitate anymore – can't assume the best in people…."

"I get that… probably better than most," she said, mentally ticking off all the times she'd hesitated and assumed the best in someone and how terribly all those instances had gone. But, she remembered what Jessie had said

_"Too much horrible shit happens nowadays, we can't let go of what we had before all this."_

She didn't want to let go. Not again.

"We can't be okay with killing," Anna declared.

"Sometimes that's what we need to do—"

"I know," she snapped. "I was like you – I wanted to go back to Terminus and finish them. I still think we should have. But, we can't be okay with killing. We don't get to do that."

Rick finally turned; one brow cocked as he looked at her.

"When we stop feeling it – the guilt, the regret – that's when we lose. That's when we're no better than Gareth, or The Governor, or the walkers," Anna said firmly. "We can't let that happen."

They stared at each other for a long moment, her words hanging between them. Rick seemed to be mulling over her statements, thinking carefully on how to reply, and as his brows creased together, she knew she wouldn't like it.

Anna opened her mouth to try arguing her point further when the roof door burst open with a loud clang. She whirled around, her hand flying to the gun on her hip when her eyes landed on Jessie.

"Lamson made a run for it," he declared, out of breath. "Tyreese and Daryl went after him."

"Hell," Rick hissed, taking off past Anna.

Jessie jumped aside as Rick rushed through the door and down the stairs. As Rick disappeared, Jessie turned to Anna.

"How did Lamson get away?" Anna asked as she followed Rick down the stairs, Jessie close behind.

"He got Sasha alone and knocked her out," Jessie explained.

"Is she okay? Where is she?" Anna continued, spotting Sasha sitting on an overturned crate, holding a cloth to her head with Noah hovering over her. Anna made a beeline for the two.

"I'm fine," Sasha assured.

"Let me see," Anna said softly, kneeling in front of her.

Reluctantly, Sasha dropped her hand away from her forehead to reveal bright red blood blossoming from a small cut. Anna took the cloth from Sasha and called for a bottle of water.

"You're a doctor now too?" Jessie asked from a few feet away.

"Fort Benning taught me first aid, but sadly, no – I am not a doctor," Anna explained.

She poured a bit of water on the cloth before she started to clear the blood away. The cut had stopped bleeding, was superficial and would not require stitches. She related as much to Sasha and stood.

"I told you I was fine," Sasha said before shaking her head. "Damn, I can't believe I let him get to me."

"Don't beat yourself up," Jessie insisted, stepping forward.

"It was stupid," Sasha snapped.

Anna bit her lip, knowing that nothing anyone said would change Sasha's mind. Sometimes, people just needed to live with their mistakes, learn from them and do better. There was nothing left to do now except correct the problem. So, Anna picked up her rifle and headed for the door to the street.

"Where are you going?" Jessie asked.

"To catch up with Rick," Anna called over her shoulder, disappearing outside. She saw him disappear around the west corner of the warehouse.

For all her short comings on breathing, Anna was glad to say that she was a fast runner. Barreling after Rick, she barely heard her name being called as she rounded the corner and caught up to the man as he made it to the courtyard where they had left the police cruiser.

She reached the passenger side just as Rick turned the ignition and slammed the door shut. She climbed in and buckled her seat belt, the car tearing after the distant figure of a man in a police uniform. She shut her door, briefly watching the pavement speed past before looking ahead.

"Stop," Rick said into the cars walkie, his voice amplified over the loudspeaker. "Stop right now," he repeated.

Anna flinched, searching the area for walkers or any other threats.

"Stop. I won't ask again."

"Rick just—" Anna started before she fell back against her seat as Rick sped up, glaring Lamson down as they rapidly approached.

Then he slammed on the brakes and Anna caught herself from flying into the dashboard, the seat belt digging into her chest. She stared, wide-eyed, as Lamson was launched forward, his head impacting with the ground.

Rick opened his door and climbed out, walking around to hover over Lamson and unholstering his gun. Anna continued to watch, her chest heaving.

"You crazy—you crazy son of a bitch," Lamson ground out. "I think you—I think you broke my back."

Anna swallowed hard.

"Didn't have to be like this," Rick said. "You just had to stop."

"I couldn't. I don't know you. But, I think—" Lamson groaned, trying to look up at Rick but unable to move much. "I think I'm getting the idea."

"You just had to stop," Rick repeated.

"Take me back," Lamson begged. "Take me back to the hospital. I did it… for your friend."

"Not after this, no," Rick sighed.

Anna climbed out of the car then, shaking her head as she made her way toward them.

"Can't go back, Bob," Rick said simply.

"I was gonna iron it over. She's under it," Lamson insisted. "And you've been out here too long. You'll die. You'll all—"

Anna flinched as she froze in her approach, the deafening _BANG_ of Rick's Python ringing in her ears.

"Shut up," Rick sneered, holstering his revolver.

He turned away from Lamson's corpse and walked back to the cruiser, his face impassive as he walked past Anna. She stared at the bullet hole on the side of Lamson's shining bald head and she wondered if he liked to watch football on TV or if he had a favorite book. She wondered who he'd been before.

.

Rick pulled the cruiser up to the warehouse and shut the engine off. Anna stared at the dark grey dashboard in front of her, holding her rifle between her knees, tapping her finger against the metal. Neither of them made a move to even open their doors.

"What you said before—"

"It doesn't matter," Anna said, cutting him off.

Her heart constricted painfully in her chest and she wanted to cry, but she ground her teeth together and opened her car door. She climbed out of the car and turned to shut the door, facing Rick as he stood on the other side.

"None of it matters, does it?" She asked, scrunching up her face.

He blinked at her, opening his mouth to say something, but she turned from him and headed for the warehouse. She could hear him following.

"Let's break the bad news to his friends," she sighed, pulling the heavy metal door open.

The expectant looks they received the moment they stepped inside sent Anna's heart plummeting. She quickly arranged her face into a stoic expression and stalked across the room to stand beside her brother while Rick and Daryl walked away a few paces to discuss the new development.

"He wouldn't stop," Anna heard Rick say before they'd walked too far away for her to hear.

"What happened out there?" Jessie asked, his voice hushed as he took a step toward her.

"He wouldn't stop," Anna echoed, her eyes trained on Rick as she repositioned her rifle strap on her shoulder.

Rick and Daryl walked over to the group, surrounding the remaining hostages.

"He was a good man," the woman, Shepherd, began. "He was attacked by rotter's. Saw it go down."

Rick shifted on his feet, sizing the woman up. "You're a damn good liar."

"We're hanging by a thread here," Shepherd huffed. "He was attacked by rotter's. That's the story."

"You said the trade was a bad idea," Daryl began. "What changed?"

"Lamson was our shot," Shepherd insisted. "So, it's this or you go in guns blazing, right? You don't want that."

"If this is some bullshit you're spinning and things go south—" Daryl growled, getting in her face with a finger before she cut him off.

"I know!" she snapped. "I know the good ones from the bad," she sighed. "Let us help you."

"What about you?" Rick asked, turning to the stalky cop, Lacari. "You wanna live? How much?"

Anna's lip curled in annoyance at the question. Lacari sighed.

"Dawn's afraid she'll look weak in front of us – thinks it'll tip things against her. Hell," he said, glancing at Shepherd, "it will." He looked back to Rick. "She'll see this trade as a rip-off if she thinks you took out one of our guys," he explained. "So, it's a good thing Lamson got aced by rotter's."

Pinching her arm, Anna reminded herself what was at stake. They didn't have time to worry about idealistic notions of right and wrong when Beth and Carol's lives were on the line. She repeated to herself over and over again that idealism didn't matter anymore.

.

Anna focused on the solid metal braced against her shoulder and resting in her hands as she peered down the scope of her rifle. The group was atop a towering parking garage overlooking a shorter one. She could very clearly see Rick standing, waiting, on the shorter parking garage.

She stood between Sasha and Daryl. Anna and Sasha kept their eyes on Rick while Daryl scanned the area for the cruiser they were waiting for. Daryl snapped his fingers.

"They're headed towards the vantage point," Tyreese called into the walkie.

"Okay," came Rick's crackled reply. "Copy that."

A police cruiser soon came into view and Anna positioned her aim so that she had the driver in her sights. Her rifle would easily penetrate the windshield, but that didn't matter as he and his partner got out of the car, guns raised as they took cover behind their doors. Rick raised his hands.

"I got the one on the left," Sasha declared.

"Right," Anna responded.

She took a deep, steady breath through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth, ignoring how young the officers looked.

Her guy ordered Rick to do something, tilting his head towards Rick. Anna's aim followed his every movement, staying on his forehead. If things went sideways, at least she could make it quick.

Rick took his left hand and unholstered his Python before he set it on the ground and took a step back, turning in a slow circle to demonstrate that he had no other weapons.

The driver shut his door and the two stepped forward, guns still raised. Rick, unfazed, lowered his hands. They exchanged looks and words that Anna couldn't really hear over the distance.

Coming up from the lower level was a female walker, her clothes and dead hair swaying in the breeze. As it staggered closer, Anna swung up her aim and pulled back on the trigger. She felt the butt of the rifle slam against her shoulder as the bullet launched forward and embedded itself in the walkers forehead. It collapsed to the ground, unmoving. Walkers were easy.

She brought her aim back to the driver, looking over his shoulder at the downed walker before turning back to Rick. Anna could see the fear in his eyes as he looked around the area for them, realizing exactly who was in charge of this meeting.

Rick, resting his hands on his belt, took a few step backwards, his posture relaxed. Anna kept her eye on the driver as he and his partner lowered their guns. The driver took out his walkie. Negotiations were going according to plan and they were one step closer to getting Carol and Beth back.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

With officers Franco and McGinley in front, Rick and Daryl led Shepherd and Lacari at gunpoint, everyone else following close behind up the fifteen flights of stairs. Anna did her best to hide her haggard breathing as they came to a halt in front of some double doors.

Rick peered through the shatter-proof glass.

"Holster your weapons," came the crackled voice of a woman over the radio.

Rick did as she ordered and turned to the others, "You, too," he said.

With a grimace, Anna put her gun away, adjusting her rifle on her shoulder, same as the others. Anna couldn't help but wonder if they were putting a little too much trust in Dawn. But, it didn't matter what she thought and Franco and McGinley pulled the doors open.

Standing on the other side were four officers and a tall man in a lab coat. The group stepped forward and the officers parted revealing Beth and Carol. Franco and McGinley continued down the hall to join their comrades.

"They haven't been harmed," Rick declared.

Anna scanned Beth's face, taking in the thick red cuts on her forehead and cheek while Carol sat, hunched over, in a wheelchair.

"Where's Lamson?" A woman at the front of the hospital group asked.

_Dawn_.

"Rotter's got him," Shepherd explained easily.

"We saw it go down," Lacari affirmed.

"Oh," Dawn breathed. "I'm sorry to hear that…. He was one of the good guys."

_Good guys_, Anna thought, wondering if that even mattered in the end. Being good. Being anything.

"One of yours for one of mine," Dawn said, getting the exchange started.

"Alright," Rick said, nodding to Daryl.

"Move," Daryl grumbled, shoving Lacari forward.

Dawn nodded to one of her guys and he took a duffle from the floor and Carol from Beth. He gently pushed the wheelchair forward, meeting Daryl in the middle and handing both duffle and Carol over in exchange for Lacari.

Once both parties were with their respective groups, Dawn took Beth by the elbow and led her forward, while Rick walked Shepherd up. Shepherd walked straight past Dawn and joined her fellows and Rick wrapped his arm around Beth's shoulders, laying a kiss atop her head.

"Glad we could work things out," Dawn said, watching as Rick and Beth joined them.

Anna instinctively reached for the girl and pulled her close.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Anna asked, noting the stitches on her facial wounds, and the cast on her right wrist.

"I'm okay," Beth assured.

"Which one of them hurt you?" Anna asked, her voice so soft that only Beth could hear her.

"It doesn't matter," Beth whispered back.

"Now, I just need Noah."

Anna's brow furrowed and she turned to face Dawn, resisting the urge to pull Noah to her, to protect him – because there was no doubt in Anna's mind that both he and Beth had been beaten.

"And then you can leave," Dawn said.

"That wasn't part of the deal," Rick snapped, taking a few steps toward Dawn.

"Noah was my ward. Beth took his place and I'm losing her, so I need him back," Dawn explained.

"Ma'am, please, it's not—" tried Shepherd, only to have Dawn call for silence.

"My officers put their lives on the line to find him. One of them died," Dawn insisted.

"No, he ain't stayin'," sneered Daryl as he shoved Noah behind him.

"He's one of mine. You have no claim on him," Dawn responded.

"The boy wants to go home, so you have no claim on him," Rick retorted.

"He's a human being," Anna snapped. "No one has a claim on him – or anyone else."

"Well, then…," Dawn sighed, eyeing Anna for a moment, "we don't have a deal."

"The deal is done," Rick growled.

"It's okay," Noah sighed, stepping around Daryl.

"No! No," Rick said, holding Noah back.

"I got to do it," Noah insisted. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Beth cried.

"It's settled."

Anna watched, helpless, as Noah walked forward.

"Wait!" Beth called, running past Anna to wrap her arms around Noah's shoulders.

"It's okay," Noah assured quietly.

"I knew you'd be back," Dawn sneered.

Beth released Noah and stepped up to Dawn, bringing her hands together briefly before she let them rest at her sides.

"I get it now," Beth stated simply.

Anna could see realization slowly creep across Dawn's face and she wondered what Beth meant. But then Beth was reeling back, something shining and sharp in her fist, bringing the object down on Dawn's chest.

_BANG!_

It started as a low hum in her ears, slowly ascending into a crescendo of white noise as a golf-ball sized red hole erupted from the back of Beth's beautiful blonde head. Anna's eyes followed, unblinking and burning, as Beth's lithe, little body fell to the ground.

Anna felt like she was lead in water, her movement sluggish as she reached for her sidearm. Vaguely, she was aware of tears streaking down her face.

_BANG!_

She flinched back, seeing the gun in Daryl's hand raised and pointed at Dawn as she, too, fell to the ground. Anna looked to Daryl, saw his contorted, pained face and heard the sob rip from his throat, echoing in her head above everything else.

Anna stepped forward. As easy as breathing, her hand slid on to Daryl's shoulder and gave a weak squeeze. She didn't dare look at Beth lying on the cold, linoleum floor. She didn't dare look at the bright red blood as it pooled around her body.

Instead, Anna focused on pulling Daryl into her, holding him to her as he lowered his gun, feeling his body convulse.

"Hold your fire!" She heard distantly. "It's over." It was Shepherd speaking. "It was just about her. Stand down," the woman with the high cheekbones demanded.

The other officers did as she commanded.

"You can stay," Shepherd offered. "We're surviving here. It's better than out there."

"No," Rick said, pain in his voice. He cleared his throat, "And I'm taking anyone back there who wants to leave. If you want to come with us… just step forward now."

Noah didn't hesitate, rejoining Anna and the others. But, the cops, the wards, the doctor – they didn't move. And it didn't matter.

.

Anna was numb. They all were. She stared at Beth's face, so delicate and peaceful. Like she was asleep in Daryl's arms as he carried her down the stairs.

_"I'm so sorry," Anna whispered. She watched the blankness in Beth's face, hoping for even the slightest twitch. "I wish none of that horrible shit happened. I wish none of this ever happened. None of this is fair, Beth. But, you need to wake up."_

Anna couldn't tear her eyes away from the smooth curve of her cheek, the long blonde lashes. Beth was good and pure and now she was gone. Anna's stomach churned at the mere thought of Maggie. Who was going to do it? How were they going to do it?

Her whole body trembled and she felt like her heart was about to explode. She could only compare the feeling that came over her to that of falling. She barely registered that they were outside. The ringing in her ears had returned – a high pitch whine that made her want to throw up.

She saw a head of red hair. Anna's eyes lingered on Abraham's face for a long moment, before moving to Rosita, then Eugene and she was sure that she was hallucinating. This had to be a dream. None of it was real. For one beautiful second, Anna believed.

But, then the ringing in her ears gave way to a strangled cry she'd heard so many times before and she saw Maggie on the ground, her face twisted up in unadulterated agony. Daryl stood in front of Maggie, holding Beth, his whole body rigid. He knelt, laying the girl down, allowing Maggie to paw at her mindlessly.

Anna felt a heave in her stomach. She backed away, slow so as not to be noticed. and then sprinted for a green army tent to hide within. The contents of her stomach that had yet to be digested came out just before she reached the open flap, vomit splattering against the pavement.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

It was like she was underwater, floating just below the surface. Father Gabriel's voice sounded like a dull hum as he read from his little black bible. She stepped forward, like all the others, and took up some dirt in the short shovel and dropped the earth into the hole, over a body carefully wrapped in a white sheet.

She felt like she was in some surrealist dream as she made her way through the trees back to the main road where they'd stopped to bury Beth. Everything seemed too bright. Too saturated and sharp. And silent.

_"I get it now,"_ Beth had said before plunging a pair of medical scissors into Dawn's chest. Someone so good, so willing to take a life. Anna wondered what had changed.  
_"This world doesn't give a shit about your ridiculous notions of right and wrong, Anna!"_

Anna got it, too. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Marley was right, Rick was right. Good, bad, moral or wrong, it didn't matter. Everyone died. Everyone has done something.

She found herself at the small camp the group had put together just off the road, three vehicles they'd taken acting as a perimeter; a dusty blue truck, a maroon Lincoln town car and a green van.

The sun was hanging low in the sky as the group filtered into the camp. Rosita started a low fire and heated a can of food over the flames, Abraham stood watch, Eugene sat with Tara and Jessie talking about whatever. They had the luxury of not knowing Beth.

Everyone else gathered around the fire, too dazed to do anything but stare absently into the flames. Everyone except Daryl.

Anna watched silently as he disappeared into the woods, making no move to join him. He needed to be alone. She didn't understand his relationship with Beth, but she knew it was real and that he was in pain. They all were, and they were all going to deal with it differently.

Peering over the low fire, Anna saw Maggie, curled in on herself, away from the others, crying, her sobs filling Anna's ears like thunder.

The sun was kissing the horizon now, the sky slowly fading into darkness. A chill ran through Anna and she wrapped her arms around herself as Dale's voice whispered through her head.

_"This group is broken."_

_._

Night finally came and most of the group laid down in the vehicles or on the ground to sleep. Anna decided instead to relieve Abraham, leaning against the dusty blue truck as she kept watch over the perimeter, rifle in hand, silently begging for a walker to stumble out of the woods for her to unleash all of her pent up anger.

She heard the soft steps of someone approaching and immediately recognized Rick's boots against the pavement. He rounded the truck and stood beside her, running his hand down his face.

"We're takin' Noah home to Virginia," he explained. "It's what Beth wanted." Anna forced herself not to react, unsure why Rick felt he needed to inform her. "Jessie wants to make a stop on the way there."

She tensed.

"Do you want to go?" He asked carefully.

"It doesn't matter," she said simply, her voice devoid of all emotion. She didn't care anymore.

"It _does _matter," Rick insisted. "If you don't want to go, we won't."

"Why?" She asked, venom on her tongue. "It's not like what I thought mattered before."

She wanted to go on. Wanted to say that they could have traded Lamson for Noah. That it was Rick's fault Beth was dead. But, in the end it didn't matter whose fault it was. It didn't change anything

"Anna—"

"If Jessie wants to go, then we go," she said, cutting him off.

He nodded but didn't leave right away. Irritation broiled over.

"Do I need to sign a permission slip?" She snapped.

Rick took a few steps back, surprised at her behavior but said nothing, turning on his heel to finally leave her in peace. Before he disappeared behind the truck, however, he paused and looked back at her. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, seeming to change his mind, and left.

Anna stood alone in the darkness, watching the tree line, listening to the crickets and the quiet sobs of Maggie.

.

It was daybreak before Daryl returned to camp. Everyone was already eating breakfast or packing up, loading what few supplies they had into the back of the town car. With everyone accounted for, Rick stood and called their attention.

The group gathered around him, Daryl at the back. Anna stood beside him, reaching her hand out, brushing it against his. He pulled back and stepped away.

Anna felt herself shatter at the rejection, her heart tearing itself into pieces. Tears rimmed her eyes, but she sucked in a breath and raised her head, not allowing herself to cry. She made sure that nothing she felt showed in her face or posture. She had to remind herself that he was in pain, and he dealt with that differently than she did.  
But, he had never rejected her touch before.

"Beth wanted to get Noah home. So that's what we're gonna do. We're heading for Richmond, Virginia. They've got walls, people. Safety," Rick explained. "But, before we do that, we've got another stop to make."

Anna grimaced, shifting on her feet.

"Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Anna and Jessie have some business they need to take care of before we head North."

Anna felt eyes on her but elected to ignore them, continuing to stare straight ahead as Rick went over their expected route and timetable before dismissing the group to finish loading up.

Making her way to the back of the town car, Anna grabbed the bright orange duffel, ready to throw it in the trunk. As the trunk squealed open, she saw Jessie approaching, his hands shoved in his pockets. With a sigh, she threw the duffel into the back.

"Can we talk?" Jessie asked as he stopped beside her.

"You seem to demonstrate the ability," Anna responded blandly.

"Ha-ha. Listen…," he started. "we need to do this. We have to see for ourselves. Even if you don't want to."

"The matter's already been settled," Anna snapped. "Even if I don't want to, we're going."

"I'm not trying to force you into anything, Anna," Jessie said, raising his voice. He ran his hands through his dark hair and went on more calmly. "What I'm trying to say is that I can't do this without you."

Anna took a deep breath, trying to keep her nerves under control. She was starting to get irritated, but she understood where he was coming from as he gave her an imploring look.

"I know, Jess," she said gently, laying a hand on his arm. "You can't change my mind about this. I still don't think it's a good idea, and I don't think there's anything we need to see. But you won't be alone. I'll be there. That's all I can do."

Jessie nodded. The two reached up simultaneously and slammed the trunk shut before Jessie nodded again, setting his shoulders, and wandered off, seeming satisfied with the exchange.

"Anna?"

She turned at the sound of her name to find Carl standing there, Rick's old sheriff's hat casting a shadow over his face. He and Beth had been so close – Anna could imagine what he was going through.

"What's up, Carl?" Anna asked, turning to give him her undivided attention. Over his head she could see Rick and Daryl talking. But, she focused on Carl, waiting for him to speak.

"What's in Myrtle Beach?" He asked.

Anna pursed her lips, considering her answer. In honesty, she didn't think there was anything in Myrtle Beach. She doubted she or Jessie would find any sort of closure in their childhood home – only confirmation of what she already knew. Their parents were dead and they had nothing left but each other.

However, she understood Carl well enough to know that this answer wouldn't satisfy him.

"It's where Jessie and I grew up," she finally said.

Carl nodded before he looked over his shoulder. She followed his gaze to Rick and Daryl, the conversation seeming to come to an end as they parted ways, Daryl heading straight for the green van at the back of the caravan and Rick to the dusty blue truck at the front.

"Alright everyone, let's load up!" Rick called.

Carl lowered his head and turned back to Anna.

"You ready?" Anna asked, furrowing her brow as she looked at him.

She could see how sad he was, and how much he was trying to hide it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, switching gears.

He nodded quickly, his lips forming a straight line on his pale face. But, then he paused, and looked her in the eyes.

"Not really," he admitted. "Are you okay?"

It was her plan to keep everything bottled up until it went away, but Carl confided in her and she felt the need to reciprocate.

"Not really," she echoed.

"Carl," Rick called, gaining their attention.

"I'll talk to you later," Carl said, heading towards his father before he turned around and jogged back to her.

She wasn't expecting him to wrap his arms around her, or the swell of emotion she felt as he held her. They were just about the same height now, allowing his cheek to press against her ear. He waited for her to return the hug. Slowly, she did, coiling her arms around him.

"It's okay," Carl whispered.

"_It's okay…" came a whisper so soft she thought it was in her head. She glanced down at Carl, who curled his hand into hers._ His voice had been so small then. He'd been so young.

Carl pulled away with a sad smile as he looked at her. She forced a smile onto her face and nodded at him until he turned away and climbed into the back seat of the truck, followed by Michonne, then Noah.

With a final look at the sun as it inched its way above the horizon, Anna climbed in the driver's seat of the maroon town car, buckling up before turning the engine. Beside her was Jessie and in the back was Abraham and Rosita.

Noticing the distinct lack of Eugene, Anna couldn't help but ask as she looked at them through the rear view mirror.

"What happened to Washington?"

Abraham scoffed and turned his head to peer out the window. Rosita sighed, shaking her head.

"You two were right," Rosita said. "It was all just a lie."

Anna pursed her lips, adjusting the rear view mirror so she could see clearly out the back window. She could see Daryl in the driver's seat of the green van behind her, Carol at his side. Anna ignored the ache in her chest.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, throwing the car into drive as the caravan started off.

She eased off the break and followed Rick onto the road, Daryl close behind her. Anna asked herself what any of them had left anymore.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_She could feel the sun on her skin as she listened to the waves crashing against the rocky shore, like the steady breathing of the Earth. In. Out. In. Out. Closing her eyes, she let her chest rise and fall along with the water as it swelled and receded over the grey pebbles._

_Opening her eyes again, she looked to her left and saw the spans of the beach, people running and screaming and laughing, some just laying out and sunbathing. In the distance she could see a peer, there were people there too. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen so many people in one place. Living._

_Anna turned, curious, and walked toward them, the pebbles clicking as they shifted together under her converse. The sound reverberated in her ears and she found herself staring at her feet as she walked, watching the pebbles part with every step._

_When she looked up again she was standing on the peer, strangers walking past her, lost in their own worlds, completely oblivious to her existence._

_At the end of the peer she looked over the railing. She was just barely able to make out the rippled shape of her in the unsettled waters, splashing against the wooden supports. She was just a mashup of colors. Indistinguishable. Hardly a person._

"_Anna," came a familiar voice that sent an apprehensive shiver up her spine._

_She turned to find Marley standing there, watching her. There was something off about Marley's face. Something different. Something Anna couldn't quite place. Maybe it was in her eyes or the curl of her lips as she spoke._

"_It's time to go home," Marley said, a crease between her brows. _

_Marley was angry about something, but Anna didn't know what. Was it something she had done?_

_Silently, Anna followed Marley off the peer and away from the rocky beach. Away from the people living and breathing and laughing._

_The pair walked down the road, their footsteps the only sound between them._

_A green van swayed past them. She watched, looking in the windows at the faces staring back at her. She knew them - at least she thought she did._

"_Why did you do it?" Marley asked suddenly, coming to a stop._

_Anna furrowed her brow, confusion whirling around her like a fog. She tried to remember what it was she'd done, but she couldn't think of it. There was the ghostly feeling of a scream ripping through her throat, but there was no sound._

"_I'm sorry," Anna said, guilt clawing at her heart, deciding that apologizing for whatever it is she had done was better than asking about it._

_Anna looked to the house behind Marley. A single story, orange brick house, with a narrow porch and a small, unused garden. There were two large windows on either side of the front door, and a small black mailbox mounted to the wall._

_The very thought of going inside sent her heart racing. She couldn't breathe. She was afraid. She didn't want to go inside – or be anywhere near this house – and she couldn't fathom why. This was her home, after all._

_The front door opened and in the threshold she could see her mother, with her beautiful dark hair around her shoulders._

"_Anna," she called._

"_Anna," came her father's voice as he stepped into view._

"_Anna," said her brother._

"_Anna," that was a new voice – rough, like gravel and suddenly she felt sad. Alone._

"Anna."

Slowly, she opened her eyes, breathing deeply as she stared out the window. The sun was higher in the sky and the day was bright. Anna turned to look at her brother, sitting in the driver's seat. They'd been on the road for five days now and she was exhausted – physically, mentally and emotionally. In all that time, Daryl had isolated himself from everyone – including Anna – disappearing whenever they made camp only to return when they were ready to hit the road again.

"We're stopping to fuel up and get some supplies," he explained.

She glanced over her shoulder, noting that they were completely alone in the car.

"You looked like you weren't having a very nice dream," Jessie said cautiously, curious.

"It was a dream," she sighed, unbuckling her seat belt and opening her car door.

He said nothing more and the two climbed out of the car, joining the others as they gathered around Rick and Glenn.

"Sasha, Tyreese, Daryl and I will siphon some gas," Rick explained. "Glenn, Anna, Tara, and Jessie are going to try and find some supplies while we're here. Everyone else, stay with the cars."

Everyone nodded, splitting off into their groups. Anna checked over her rifle, ensuring it had enough ammo. As she walked to join Tara, Glenn, and Jessie, she spotted an empty satchel on the ground and snatched it up.

It was green canvas with words scrawled in faded black sharpie on the front. She squinted at the words, trying to read them as she stopped beside her brother.

"Jessie and Tara, you guys take the left, Anna and I will go right. We'll meet back here in thirty minutes," Glenn delegated, pointing everyone in their respective directions. "We need water, ammo, and medical supplies – maybe some clean clothes while we're at it."

Anna pulled the strap of the bag over her head and positioned it on her shoulders, giving up on reading it.

"Alright, let's go," Glenn said, clapping his hands together before heading off to the right of the cars.

Anna followed Glenn, her rifle ready and eyes scanning for any danger as they weaved their way through abandoned cars and tattered tents set up at a rundown gas station. The glass windows and doors had been shattered, allowing easy access inside.

Carefully, they stepped through the frame of the front door, glass crunching under their boots. The station was dark, only illuminated by the sun as it filtered through the broken windows.

The shelves were mostly empty. Glenn started grabbing what was left in the way of food and drinks – some old bags of chips and soda – while Anna made her way to the register.

She hopped onto the counter and brought her legs over until she faced the wall of cigarettes and lottery tickets. She jumped down and opened her bag, ready to start shoving it full of whatever looked useful.

Under the register she found a plastic box of first aid and a small six shooter covered by a dirty rag, along with its corresponding box of ammo. Anna placed all three on the counter before she turned back to the wall.

Eyeing what few packs of cigarettes were left, she considered filling her bag with them, imagining herself dumping them in Daryl's lap as some sort of bribe for him to talk to her – look at her. She doubted that would have the affect she wanted.

She sighed and grabbed a pack of Marlboro 100's, stuffing them into her back pocket before turning back to the register. Glenn was standing there, watching her, with a shopping basket full of food items – there was more left in the store than she had anticipated.

"Will that be all for you, sir?" She asked in a monotone voice as she stepped up to the register, hitting random buttons until the money drawer popped open.

Absently, she sifted through the cash and coins, picking out the shiniest four quarters and shoving them in her front pocket. She couldn't think of any reason she'd need them, but she wanted them, and that was enough for her.

"Are you okay?" Glenn asked, calling her attention back to him as he set the basket on the counter.

Anna shrugged, shutting the drawer and packing her findings in her satchel. "We should start heading back," she muttered, jumping back onto the counter and climbing over it to join Glenn on the other side.

She started for the door but paused when Glenn called out to her.

"You don't want to go home, do you?" He asked. "Why? This could be the last time you ever see it."

"There's nothing left there for me to see," she said, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

Anna waited for him to respond; tell her she was wrong. She didn't know if she even wanted him to say anything, but she hated the silence.

"Look, we both know what we're gonna find there – but maybe you need to see it for yourself," Glenn finally said.

She figured he had a point, but the fact still remained that she didn't _want_ to see for herself.

"We should get back," Anna said, quieter this time.

She continued on, ending the discussion as she stepped through the broken glass door and made her way back to the caravan, where she saw the others were returning as well.

As she approached, she noticed Daryl standing beside the maroon town car, a red plastic canister of gas in hand as he poured fuel into the tank.

Anna walked over to him, careful not to spook him, afraid that he'd pull away from her again. As she neared, Daryl lifted the canister and shut the fuel door. She stopped in front of him and stared at his chest, her nerves getting the better of her.

When he didn't move, Anna finally looked up at him. He didn't meet her eyes. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. Carefully, Anna reached out and grabbed his empty hand, pulling it to her. She pressed the pack into his hand, holding it there for a moment before letting him go and taking a step back.

He turned the pack over, inspecting it.

"Thanks…" he muttered.

Finally, Daryl brought his eyes up to hers and she felt her heart pounding against her chest.

"So, cigarettes will get your attention?" She asked, her tone light, hoping to see the corner of his lips turn up.

He bristled and his eyes narrowed at her.

"I don't need your damn attitude right now," he snapped, turning on his heel and stalking away.

Anna's whole body tensed as she watched him climb into the green van, slamming the door shut. She let out a long, shuddering breath, desperately trying to keep the sting of tears at bay.

_Stupid,_ hissed the familiar voice in her head.

A single tear escaped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, stepping forward and yanking the driver's side door open. She got in the town car and slammed it shut, breathing deeply to keep herself calm.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Anna jumped, turning around in her seat to see Abraham lounging in the back. Once her heart stopped racing, Anna narrowed her eyes at the large man.

"Fuck you," she sneered.

"Hey," Abraham sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Ain't none of my business."

Anna clenched her jaw and faced forward, glaring out the windshield. The others were slowly loading up.

"Mind if I give you some advice?" He asked.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Man just needs some space – give him a chance to breathe, figure things out," Abraham continued, ignoring her. "I've seen you two together. He'll come back. Just give it time."

Anna sighed, bowing her head. Abraham was right, of course, but that didn't make any of it easy.

She turned the key in the ignition as Jessie and Rosita joined them in the car and the matter was dropped. The dash read 10:24 AM. She knew the clock was wrong, but she figured by the angle of the sun, they'd reached Myrtle Beach mid-afternoon.

Anna adjusted the rear-view mirror and saw Daryl, a cigarette between his lips as he stared at the steering wheel.

_Time…. How much of that do we even have?_


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Single story. Orange brick. A narrow porch and an unused garden. Anna stared up at the house, squinting past the sun as it shined over the black roof. It looked just as she remembered it, with two large windows on either side of the deep red door. The mailbox was still mounted to the brick with the numbers 68301 in bold white print.

They were fifteen minutes away from the ocean and she could smell it in the air.

Anna looked to her left and saw the row of homes on either side of the street, abandoned. Empty. She looked to her right and saw at the end of the street was the old oak tree, recalling the days she'd climb through its branches, her hands coated in sap and wood crumbs, until she reached the top where she could look out all the way to the ocean.

"Are you ready?" Jessie asked, his voice quiet.

"No," she said, turning back to face the house. "But, we're here."

She'd had ten days on the road to prepare for this. Really, she'd had two years to prepare for returning home. But her body was cold as she stared up at the familiar house and her heart ached in her chest. She still didn't want to be here.

"Alright," Rick called softly, stepping forward. "We'll go through and clear the house then—"

"No," Jessie said quickly and everyone turned to him. "No," he repeated. "Anna and I… we need to do this alone," he said as Abraham passed him two flashlights. He handed one to Anna.

"We don't know what's in there," Rick started.

"Yes, we do," Anna sighed. "Three bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room and a kitchen floor level. An open concept basement with a bar—" she listed, not tearing her eyes from the house. "Two people is more than enough to clear that house. Besides," she said, adjusting her grip on her rifle, "there's a narrow hallway and we don't need anyone backing it up."

"Alright," Rick said after a moment of deliberation. "Alright, we do this your way. But, if anything happens, we're there."

Jessie nodded and started forward. Anna followed him down the narrow, cement walkway and up the two steps onto the narrow porch. She ran her hand along the wide concrete ledge of the porch where she used to sit and read or squash little red insects or pretend she was on the edge of the world.

Jessie pushed the front door open and they stood side by side, staring into the darkness. Anna half expected her mother to appear holding a mug of coffee as she welcomed them home. But, she didn't appear, and there was no smell of freshly brewed coffee. Just the stale scent of dust.

Anna stepped forward and slammed the side of her fist against the door frame a few times, the sound thunder in the silent house. They waited. She could feel the others watching them. She wished they would go away, as if this was some sort of intimate family matter, forbidden for outsiders to even see.

There was no movement or sound within the house. One after the other, Jessie and Anna stepped through the threshold, their rifles raised as they peered through the dark. The living room was directly to their right, seeming untouched, except by two years' worth of dust – Anna could already feel it getting harder to breathe.

Anna pointed two fingers to the left, to the sliding door that lead to the L-shaped dining room and kitchen. Jessie nodded and stepped up beside the sliding door, his hand on the little indent that served as a handle. Anna readied herself and nodded to him to open the door.

As soon as he slid the door open, she stepped forward, looking to her left and then her right before continuing through the kitchen, Jessie close behind.

She ignored the odd smell emitting from the fridge as she passed, turning the corner – bypassing the door to the basement – and led the way to the narrow hallway. As they passed, Jessie opened a second sliding door that connected the hallway to the living room.

They pushed forward, Jessie pushing the door to his old bedroom open while Anna cleared the bathroom across the hall. Both rooms were empty, and they moved on.

The door to the master bedroom was open, and they quickly determined there was nothing in there before turning to Anna's old room next door. She paused in the threshold, taking in the twin bed pushed against the wall and the shelves of books, CDs and movies she hadn't taken with her when she moved away.

Turning away from Anna's room, the siblings went back down the hall and to the kitchen. The only place left to search was the basement. With every room they cleared, Anna was starting to believe there really was nothing to find here, and she wondered what Marley had seen when she'd come.

They stared down the wide stairs into the basement. Taking out their flashlights, they shined the beams down the stairs so that they could make out the red and tan floor tiles at the bottom step.

Anna took the first step down, then the next and the next, her chest tight from all of the dust they had disturbed. The stairs creaked under her boots and she could hear Jessie behind her. At the bottom, Anna went right towards the bar while Jessie checked left before joining her.

As they grew closer to the bar, there was a clinking of glass and they froze for a moment. They glanced at each other, a silent agreement passing between them. With a final nod, they adjusted their grips on their rifles and stepped around the bar.

The first thing Anna saw was the blood-stained sheets, blankets, and pillows piled together like some sort of giant nest. But, then her eyes fell on the emaciated corpses of a man and a woman.

For the smallest, most glorious of moments, Anna convinced herself that these were strangers who took refuge in their childhood home and made it a tomb. But then she saw the dull, black hair hanging around the woman's face and she could see her mother smiling back at her. No, not smiling. Snarling. She looked to the man and saw his faded red hair and wide mouth pulled back over cracked, yellow teeth.

Her empty stomach churned as she stared at them. A sob disrupted the silence and she wasn't sure who had made the sound. Her chest was tight, her eyes stung, and she was vaguely aware of the wetness on her cheeks. But above all else, she could feel herself shutting down, piece by piece until there was nothing left.

Jessie raised his rifle first, pointing it at their mother as she reached out for them. No – she wasn't their mother anymore. And the man Anna pointed her rifle at wasn't their father. These things were beasts wearing their parents faces.

Jenner's voice echoed in her mind as she steadied her sights on the forehead of what used to be her father. _"The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part – that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell, driven by mindless instinct."_

The two squeezed back on the triggers, their shots ringing in the quiet.

Anna watched as the bodies fell limp on the ground, her rifle clattering against the tile as she felt Jessie's arms wrap around her, holding her close. He was shaking. Crying. Losing control.

She felt nothing.

.

The sound of two shovels striking and moving Earth was the only thing she could hear. Sweat poured down her face and neck and her hands were covered in a mixture of blood and dirt. Beside her was her brother, digging his own hole.

Not far off, in the shade of the old cherry tree, were two bodies covered in dirty sheets. It had been three hours since the group had arrived at the orange brick house. Three hours since Anna and Jessie went into the basement. Three hours since they started digging.

Once they were satisfied with the depth, the siblings worked together to carry the bodies and place them in the graves. That was when Father Gabriel approached, the rest of the group standing not far off, watching them.

"I'd like to… to read a passage for your parents – if—if that's alright," Gabriel stammered, clutching his bible to his chest.

Anna stared between the bible and Gabriel's face, ready to reject his offer, when Jessie spoke up.

"They would have liked that," Jessie said, nodding. "Thank you."

Gabriel nodded, opening the book to a marked page and cleared his throat. He started speaking, but the words didn't reach her ears. All she could hear was the buzzing call of insects carried on the breeze.

She felt her brother's hand slip into hers as he stood beside her. He squeezed her hand and sucked in a breath. She wasn't sure if he was trying to give her comfort or draw on her for it, but she let him hold her hand while she stared at the covered bodies in the ground.

"Amen," Gabriel finished, closing his bible and taking a step back from the graves.

"Thank you," Jessie whispered, his voice cracking before he cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said again, clearer this time, releasing his grip on Anna's hand.

With nothing more to be said, they stepped forward and started filling in the graves, allowing the Earth to swallow their mother and father.

Anna glanced up to see the others filing back inside, casting worried looks back at them before they disappeared within. All except Daryl who lingered, watching her. Their eyes met. She wondered what he was thinking – what he saw when he looked at her.

He gave her a slow nod. She mirrored the gesture and he turned around and walked inside. She returned to filling her mother's grave as the sun slowly set, the sky a brilliant orange and purple backdrop on their misery.

.

By the time Anna and Jessie finished burying their parents, Anna found herself too exhausted to do anything more than sit on the ledge of the front porch, squashing little red insects and listening to the crickets calling in the night.

Inside, she could hear the others gathered around the dining table, eating and drinking what Jessie had given them from their parents' stash. Anna had taken a bottle of Vodka her mother kept behind the bar and removed herself from the others. The Vodka rested unopened and untouched in front of her.

The screen door opened and Daryl stepped outside, tucking his pack of cigarettes into his breast pocket. He leaned against the porch ledge beside her, staring out over the overgrown lawn.

"You eat?" He asked, not looking at her.

"No," she muttered, reaching out and spinning the Vodka bottle around so that the front of the label faced her.

Anna pulled her knees up and held them, glaring down at the clear liquid. She hadn't had Vodka in a long time. Hadn't been drunk in a long time. But, she knew herself when she was drunk and she had no intention of losing what little control she had.

"You should eat."

She glanced up at Daryl, biting her cheek to keep herself from speaking before engaging her brain. This was the longest they'd spoken since the hospital and she didn't want him to get upset with her and storm off again. She considered her words and tone very carefully.

"I'm not hungry," she said quietly.

"Don't matter," Daryl grumbled. "You haven't eaten for two days."

Anna furrowed her brow and stared at him, her jaw going slack for a moment before she snapped it shut. Daryl hadn't paid her the least bit of attention since the hospital, but now he knew how long it had been since she last ate? What else had he noticed?

"Oh," Anna breathed, coming to a very sudden and uncomfortable realization that she didn't understand the man in front of her at all. Not really.

She felt his warm hand brush against hers as he turned and sat against the ledge beside her. It was quiet for a long time before Daryl spoke, his voice low.

"I'm still here," Daryl assured, finally looking at her.

"I'm here, too," she replied, her voice grave. She cleared her throat, pushing her emotions back down.

"Are you?" He asked. She looked sharply at him, but he held his hands up. "What happened in there…you have to deal with that."

"Is that what you're doing? Is shutting everyone out the way to deal with things?" Anna asked quietly, allowing just some of the hurt she'd been feeling into her voice. It was a very controlled way to change the target of the conversation. She wasn't comfortable with talking about herself just yet.

"It's the only way I know how."

"Maybe it's time to learn a new way? Or at least try?" She asked, the words _for me_ left unspoken.

"What about you?" He countered, folding his arms over his chest.

Anna pursed her lips, looking away. She tried to find the right way to explain that, if she let herself feel it, she may shatter so completely that she'd never be able to put herself back together. But then she considered the fact that she was asking a lot of Daryl. It wouldn't be fair if she wasn't willing to do the same.

She looked back at him and, without thinking, stuck her pinky out at him.

"I try if you try," she offered. "Deal?"

He eyed her pinky then looked at her.

"Seriously?" He scoffed, shaking his head.

"This is a serious pinky promise," she said, her lips twitching at the corners as she tried to keep a sober expression.

Daryl frowned at her before letting out a heavy sigh and hooking his pinky with hers. Anna let herself smile at him. It was the most genuine smile she'd had on her face in the past couple of days and that, to her, was progress.

When they finally pulled their hands apart Anna bit her lip, wanting nothing more than to hold his hand again, touch him. But fear kept her from reaching out. Fear that she would fall to pieces, and she wasn't sure she was exactly ready for that. Instead, she settled for taking comfort in his presence, allowing him to give her the strength to feel just a little of the pain.

They sat together in silence, staring at nothing, both counting up their losses and reminding themselves of what they still had, however precarious.

A sudden thought came to Anna and she frowned deeply, feeling anger building up in her stomach. She squeezed her knees tighter to try and keep it at bay.

"You know," Anna started, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the cracks in the cement ledge. "Marley came here looking for me."

Daryl looked at her, confusion knitting his brows together.

"She found them. She told me they were dead," Anna went on, trying desperately not to start screaming in rage, squeezing her knees so tight to herself that she could barely breathe. "She left them like that."

"If that bitch weren't dead already," Daryl growled, glaring at the wall.

"I'd kill her again," Anna said, her voice low.

Daryl tensed, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He pushed off the ledge and began to pace along the length of the narrow porch, Anna's eyes following him back and forth until she reached out and touched his elbow.

"I have an idea," she said, uncurling herself and climbing off the ledge.

Anna dusted off her jeans and pulled open the screen door, pausing in the threshold when she realized he wasn't following her.

"Come on," she called softly, holding out her hand.

After a moment's hesitation, he took her hand and she led the way inside, past their gathered friends in the kitchen, down the narrow hallway, and into her old bedroom filled with a life she could hardly recognize anymore.

Anna dropped Daryl's hand and made her way to the tall bookshelf, immediately picking out the bright pink photo album. She flipped it open to the first page to find two smiling faces staring back at her. Just below the photo, written carefully in black ink, _Anna and Marley_.

"Can you open a window?" She asked, standing straight as she stared at the two young women.

She could hear Daryl shuffling around and the sliding of a window opening. Turning around as she pulled the photo off the page, Anna nudged a metal trash can out from under her old desk until it was settled in the center of the room.

"We took this photo the day we graduated from high school," Anna explained, turning it towards Daryl.

He peered at it through the darkness, the only light they had being the moon filtering in through the open window.

"Let me see your lighter," Anna requested, tossing the photo album on the bed.

Daryl dug into his back pocket before he handed over a silver flip lighter. Anna flipped the lighter open and lit it, the flame erupting from the wick, illuminating their faces in a warm yellow glow. Anna moved the flame under the photo, a centimeter away from setting it ablaze when Daryl called out.

"Hold up."

Anna let the flame die and looked up at Daryl. He pulled the photo from her hand and carefully tore it down the middle until Anna and Marley were completely separated. He set the half of Anna on the bed beside the album.

He held the torn photo over the trash can. Anna allowed a small smile as she flicked the lighter back on and touched the flame to the film. Quicker than she expected, the photo caught fire and Marley was consumed. Daryl dropped it into the bin and they watched as it burned.

"Got any more pictures of the dumb bitch?" Daryl asked, looking up at her, shadows dancing across his face in the yellow light.

A satisfied smirk played across her lips as Anna picked up the photo album and sat down against the bed, getting comfortable. Daryl followed suit and for the next hour the couple flipped through the photos. Anna gave a story about each one, regaling him with her youth, before he held it out over the bin and she lit it on fire. Every once in a while, he would pause to tear a photo in half, ensuring that they were only burning Marley out of her life.

Anna stopped at one picture – one of her and her family. They were dressed in summer clothes standing at the end of the peer, the wind blowing their hair as they smiled in the frozen memory. She brushed her fingers over their faces.

"This was the last time I saw them," Anna whispered, her voice cracking. "I had to get on the plane right after this picture was taken." She couldn't help the tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I should've gone to find them."

"We wouldn't be sittin' here now if you had," Daryl said.

It was quiet for a long time as Anna considered how different things might have turned out if she had gone looking for her family. She wondered if she'd give up all the good that had come out of the end of the world for the chance to see them again. If she was willing to give up Daryl. She felt guilt clawing at her as she concluded that it didn't matter, because regardless of what she should have done, this was where they were now.

"I should check on Jessie," Anna muttered, not moving from her spot beside Daryl, staring off at the shadowy shape of her door.

She didn't want to move. She wanted to stay with Daryl for as long as possible. As selfish as it made her seem, Anna wanted to pretend she and Daryl were the only two in the world. But, the sound of the others getting comfortable around the house, settling in for the night and the knowledge that her brother was in his room, mourning and alone, kept away that illusion.

"Yeah, you should," Daryl agreed.

With a heavy sigh, Anna climbed to her feet and made her way to the door. She paused, hand on the doorknob, and looked back at Daryl.

"My parents would have liked you," she declared. "They would've hated the age difference, but they would've liked you."

Daryl rubbed his chin, scratching at his beard. She could tell he felt awkward and had no idea what to say to her declaration of parental approval, so she gave him a small smile and opened the door, disappearing into the dark hallway.

Anna shut the door behind her as quietly as she could and made her way down the narrow hall to Jessie's bedroom. She pressed her ear against the door, listening carefully for any sound. What she heard broke her heart.

On the other side of the thin, dark wood door came muffled sobs and Anna wondered if she should intrude. But she knew him better than anyone else in the world. So, with a deep breath, Anna slowly opened the door just wide enough for her to squeeze through, and pressed it shut behind her.

Lying on the bed, curled up on his side was the trembling body of her elder brother. Neither of them said a word as she crossed the small room and crawled into the bed beside him. They faced each other but didn't meet each other's eyes.

Anna felt the slow, creeping pain as it twisted her stomach, gripped her lungs and squeezed her heart as she watched the tears fall down the side of Jessie's face and soak into his pillow. She could feel a single, hot tear slip out of the corner of her eye. She reached up to wipe it away when Jessie grabbed her hand.

"It's okay," he assured, his voice shaky and hushed. "It's okay," he repeated.

Anna's chest ached as another tear fell, followed by another until her head felt light, like it wasn't attached to the rest of her. A sob ripped from her throat and, finally, she couldn't hold back anymore.

"I—" she choked, not even sure of what she was going to say.

But it didn't matter as, in the safety of her brothers presence, everything she'd tried so hard to hold back spilled out of her.

She could remember the day in Anderson's apartment so long ago, when all of this began, when she dialed four numbers on a satellite phone and received the same automated message every time, punctuating just how lost she was.

_– We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone. –_

_._

_._

Daryl sat on the floor, his back against the bed, a stack of pictures in one hand and a lighter in the other. He used the flame to look through the photos of Anna and her family. She'd explained every picture, told him every detail. But, the one he liked the most was the photo of her, curled up in an armchair, her hair up in a messy pile atop her head and a book in her lap. She wasn't looking at the camera, engrossed in whatever book she was reading. Anna had said she was studying for an exam. He tucked it into his breast pocket.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Early the next morning, Anna reluctantly opened her eyes to the dull sunlight filtering in through the dusty white blinds of Jessie's window. She was sore and groggy and she knew she'd cried herself to sleep beside her brother, but she was alone in his bed.

Slowly, she sat up and set her booted feet on the ground. Wiping her eyes clear of sleep crumbs and her dried tears, Anna grimaced at the ache in her chest. She felt empty. Not exactly numb. More tired and like she had nothing left. No tears to cry, nor words to speak. Just empty.

A powerful urge came over her to pull back the covers and curl up beneath, hiding away from the rest of the world. She didn't want to join the others as she heard them around the house, gathering supplies and eating breakfast. She didn't want to see anyone. She wanted to be alone.

Carefully, Anna rose from the bed and cracked the door open, peering out to see if anyone was in the hall. The linen closet beside the bathroom was open while someone rifled through it, gathering what was useful. She remembered her mother kept candles there.

As silently as she could muster and holding her breath, Anna padded down the hallway and into her room, pressing the door shut behind her with a soft _click_. She felt guilty for the gratefulness that seeped through her at the absence of Daryl.

Casting a furtive glance at her bed, Anna went to her closet to find her old high school backpack. It was a plain navy blue bag, with some old notebooks and binders inside. After taking out the notebooks and binders, Anna tossed the bag onto her bed beside the open photo album and sifted through the shirts and jeans hanging up. They were old garments she'd chosen to leave behind when she moved out for those visits home. After finding the most durable shirts and jeans, Anna went to her dresser and pulled out some socks and underwear. As she'd learned from Fort Benning, Anna rolled up her clothes and shoved them into the bag. She still had room for a few more items.

Anna turned to her bookshelf. From top to bottom, the shelves were filled with CDs, movies, and books – some from school and some from her personal collection. On one shelf, covered in dust, was a white brick iPod and its corresponding charger. Wiping it off, Anna placed it in her bag along with a pair of headphones.

There was room for one more item and she knew exactly what she wanted to take. On her desk shelf, tucked among a few other books that had been deemed her favorite, was her absolute, go to book. _The Hobbit_.

A breeze blew through the room and the pages of _The Hobbit_ fluttered in her hands. Anna tucked the book into her bag and reached out to shut the open window over her bed. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon, filling the yard in a dull morning light.

Standing over her parents' graves, their backs to her, was Daryl and Jessie. Daryl held a hammer at his side, and at the head of each mound of dirt was a wooden cross.

"Thank you," Jessie said.

Daryl hummed in response. Anna considered shutting the window and leaving them alone in their conversation, but her curiosity held her there, watching them.

"You really care about her," Jessie sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "I can see that – and I'm sorry I haven't been exactly… welcoming."

"You're good, man. I get it," Daryl assured as he tossed the hammer to the ground.

"You got a little sister?" Jessie asked.

"Nah, just an asshole for an older brother." Daryl said, shaking his head.

Jessie nodded, unfolding his arms and wiping the sweat from his face.

"Then I guess you don't really get it," Jessie said evenly – not unkind, an observation really. "She's my little sister, the only person I have left in this fucked world. It's my job to look out for her – always has been."

"She's got a bad habit of doin' what she wants no matter what anyone says," Daryl grumbled.

Anna grimaced. He was right; she had a lot of bad habits that got her into a lot of trouble sometimes.

"I know I can't stop whatever is going on between you and my sister, but I can at least say this—" Jessie started, taking a step toward Daryl. "You hurt my sister, and I'll kill you."

Jessie patted Daryl's shoulder and started back towards the house. Anna glared after him until he paused and looked back at Daryl.

"Unless she gets to you first," Jessie added before walking out of sight.

She heard the creak of a screen door opening and closing and watched as Daryl shook his head. Pulling away from the window, Anna settled on the bed, thinking about their exchange. Was she really such a burden to them? Did she cause so much trouble for them that it warranted a conversation? Daryl was right – she did things regardless of others. Sometimes it worked out, but not enough for it to be worth the risk. Anna recounted all of the times in which her actions and insubordination had nearly gotten herself and others killed.

Acid rose in her throat and her empty stomach heaved as an all-consuming thought took her. Anna curled onto her side, sinking into her bed as a tremor ran through her body. Her hand snaked into her jeans until her fingers felt the rough, scarred surface of her thigh. She dug her nails into the skin as her chest tightened and tears started down her face.

_My fault._

_._

_._

"Loaded up!" Abraham declared as he shut the back of the green van.

Rick nodded, scanning the group as they lingered in the yard and around the vehicles. Carl held Judith at his hip, bouncing gently as she stared at Michonne making kissing faces at her. Jessie and Rosita were checking over the supply of guns they had found throughout the neighborhood.

The scavenging had taken the better part of the morning, but they were thankful that Anna and Jessie's neighborhood had been left mostly alone. They'd found an assortment of nonperishable foods, supplies, and guns, and filled the vehicles with as much as they could. But there was nothing left for any of them here. Especially Anna and Jessie.

"Alright, let's head out," Rick said, nodding his head to the others when he paused.

There was someone missing.

"Where's Anna?"

"I think she's still inside," Tara called, gesturing to the house.

Rick sighed, "Y'all load up, I'll go get her," he said as he turned and headed into the house.

When they had first arrived at the orange brick house, some overwhelming feeling had come over him. He could imagine Anna and Jessie playing in the front yard, imagine Anna saying goodnight to a date on the front porch. He could imagine Anna as she was before. Two years of knowing Anna, knowing the kind of headstrong, caring young woman she was, made it easy to imagine.

But seeing her as she was now left him confused. She wasn't the same person she was when he'd first met her. As he made his way through the living room and then the kitchen before entering the narrow hallway, Rick thought about who she was now compared to who she was then.

She was strong – but she'd always been strong. Perhaps some of them were guilty of not recognizing her strength back then, and even still now.

She was guided by her morals. She always tried to do the right thing, always tried to protect others. That hadn't changed.

Rick supposed she hadn't exactly changed who she was as a person. She was still all of the things that made up Anna. But there was something different about her, something that hadn't been there before. It was in the way she looked at people and kept everyone – even Daryl and Jessie – at a certain distance. Rick could see it though, no matter how hard she tried to hide it; that fear that flashed in her eyes.

At first, he thought it was fear of others, fear of what they might do – and maybe it was. He certainly wouldn't blame her after everything; after her winter with Randall's group, after Fort Benning, after Marley.

Rick came upon Anna's bedroom door at the end of the narrow hall. The door was cracked. He sighed heavily and pushed the door open, its hinges giving a loud whine like some sort of alarm.

He hadn't been in Anna's room yet, but he recognized it as he stood there in the door frame. Everything she ever was, confined to four walls. He looked around at the cluttered desk, the bookshelf filled to bursting, the pictures and posters on the walls. Rick knew Daryl had spent the night in here and wondered what the man had thought when he saw it.

His gaze finally fell on the body curled up on the bed, an open backpack and a photo album beside her. It took him a moment to really register what he was seeing.

At first, Rick thought she was afraid of others, what they might do. But it didn't take him long to correct that assumption. True, she was afraid of others, strangers who were capable of so many unknown things. But her fear rested primarily with the one person whose actions and thoughts she knew. Herself.

Rick rushed forward, grabbing Anna's wrist and pulling her hand away from her thigh. It was a long, tense moment before he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the marred flesh, and the blood that pearled from the crescents in her skin. He looked to her, confused, distraught, the question _why_ on the tip of his tongue. But the tears on her face stayed his words.

"Don't tell Daryl," she choked.

.

.

Her thigh stung beneath her jeans as the fabric rubbed against her skin with every slight movement and bump in the road. Anna grimaced as she adjusted her seating in the passenger seat to make it just a little easier to ignore.

But she couldn't ignore what happened between her and Rick.

_"Anna, what are you doing?" Rick demanded; his voice strained as he stared in disbelief at her._

_"It doesn't matter – and it's none of your business," she sneered, hurriedly pulling her pants back over her hips to hide what she'd done. She hissed as the fabric made contact with the cuts._

_"Anna—"_

_"Don't!" Anna snapped, climbing out of bed._

_She pointedly ignored his gaze as she bent down and zipped up her bag. Standing up, Anna threw the bag over her shoulder and shoved past Rick to the open door._

_"Anna," Rick called, his voice a little more demanding this time._

_"What, Rick? What?" she hissed, whirling around to face him. _

_Rick's eyes widened, but he didn't back down. She could see him force himself to relax, to take on an unassuming posture. He was trying to get her to lower her guard, to calm down. As if he could possibly understand._

_"You—" he cut himself off, shaking his head, seeming to decide what he was about to say would only make it worse. "I—I won't tell Daryl," he assured. "But maybe you should."_

After that Rick had left her alone to clean herself up. She found a bottle of alcohol and used it to clean the open wounds in the bathroom before hiding it away beneath her jeans. It was easier to pretend she was alright when the damage was out of sight. When she joined the others outside, no one seemed to be the wiser. Rick had kept his word and not said anything – she wondered how he had excused her absence. Whatever he had told the others seemed sufficient enough for her to avoid questioning. Without a fuss, everyone loaded up and left.

Anna rested her head against the window as the caravan made its way down the street, putting the neighborhood in the rearview mirror. Her chest tightened as she took a last glance at the old tree in the alley.

_Maybe if I had gotten there sooner,_ she thought.

She reached down and pressed her palm into her thigh. Her thigh throbbed sharply before the pain ebbed away and she was left with the empty feeling again.

_I should have been there._


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Anna leaned against the side of the maroon town car, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt as she stared at the ground. Rick, Glenn, Michonne, Tyreese, and Noah had already left in the blue truck after it was agreed that everyone else would stay behind in case things went sideways. The memory of Terminus was still fresh in all their minds, and none of them were willing to take the risk.

After Rick and the others left, Daryl went on a hunt. He'd at least told Anna where he was going – unlike all of the other times – giving her a chance to join him. But she didn't want to burden him with her presence. She wasn't anyone's responsibility.

"_Hey, Carol,_" came a voice over the walkie.

Carol snatched the bulky black box and held down the talk button.

"I'm here," she said.

"_We're halfway there. Just wanted to check the range,_" Rick explained.

"Everybody's holdin' tight," Carol assured. "We've made it 500 miles. Maybe this can be the easy part."

Anna pursed her lips. When was it ever easy?

"_Got to think we're due,_" Rick responded. "_Give us twenty minutes to check in_."

"We don't hear from you, we'll come lookin'."

"_Copy that._"

Anna shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. She tried convincing herself that they had a real chance this time. That this would work out. But she was terrified of getting her hopes up.

Not wanting to linger on their prospects, Anna pushed off the town car and walked around to the passenger seat where her pack was stored. Climbing in, she curled up in the seat and pulled out _The Hobbit_. She thumbed through the worn pages – she'd read it so many times before. But now Anna couldn't even see the words.

"Stupid," she whispered, tossing the book onto the dash.

Anna pressed herself into the seat, wrapping her arms around herself as she propped her feet up against the dash. She stared out the open window, letting the breeze wash over her. Distantly, she could hear the chatter and goings-on of the others.

She wished she'd gone with Daryl on his hunt.

Glancing around at the others, Anna considered them. Carol, Tara, and Rosita were gathered, sharing a can of beans. Maggie leaned against a tree, isolated from the others. Jessie and Eugene sat together, deep in conversation. Gabriel was off in his own world by himself. Carl was taking care of Judith. Abraham and Rosita were hunched over their guns with a cleaning kit spread out on the hood of the town car.

Anna looked down at her rifle beside her and felt the handgun on her hip. Before she could talk herself out of it, Anna climbed out of the car and – taking up her rifle – walked over to Abraham and Rosita.

The two looked up at her approach, Rosita giving a welcoming smile.

"Got another rag?" Anna asked, gesturing at their work spread out on the hood of the car.

Abraham cocked a brow at her, before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a bright orange, dirty rag.

Without another word, Anna laid out her rifle and set to work, the other two continuing their own cleaning. Her movements were fluid as she pulled and slid and twisted the metal pieces apart. It was exact, routine, robotic and unfeeling. She could focus.

"How long you say you were with the army?" Abraham asked, breaking the silence.

"About six months," Anna responded as she inspected each piece.

"After the turn, right?" Rosita pushed as she slid her clip back into place.

Anna only nodded, not taking her eyes off her work as she put the rifle back together. She wasn't really paying attention to them at this point.

"Feels good not being the only soldier around here," Abraham commented with a chuckle.

Anna's hands paused on her gun, her brow furrowing as she leveled Abraham with an almost confused stare.

"I'm not a soldier," she said, her voice even as she spoke before sliding the last piece into her rifle and setting it down.

"Could've fooled me," Rosita huffed.

"Tell me – when you were at Fort Benning, they gave you training, right?" Abraham asked, shifting on his feet.

Anna nodded, remembering her instructor yelling in her ear as she struggled to keep up with the other Privates – they'd been forced to call him Drill Sergeant and nothing else. She remembered disassembling and reassembling all sorts of weapons until her fingers bled and she had to clean up the mess. She remembered combat training, strategy training, endurance, strength, weapons. Every second of her life had become regimented, and she loved not having to think, not having to feel. Not having to care.

Back then, she didn't ask questions, she just did as she was told. The search mission for the supply party was her first time being off base. She hadn't known what Fort Benning—what the Colonel and the others- did. She hadn't wanted to know.

No, Anna had been a soldier. She'd followed orders and lost herself in the emptiness of it. But then she found herself again; the person who questioned everything, who couldn't follow orders, who could feel. Anna had been a soldier, but she wasn't anymore.

"What was it like there? Is it still up – maybe—" Rosita started only to be cut off by Anna.

"It's gone," she snapped. "That place—" Anna paused, thinking. "That place was supposed to protect – to defend," she said, her voice low as Marley's admission filled her ears.

_"It's just survival."_

"It fell a long time ago."

"_Carol, you copy?_"

Everyone turned to the walkie as Carol picked it up from the ground beside her.

"We're here," she said.

"_We made it,_" Rick said.

Anna tensed, working her jaw as she waited, her breath catching in her throat. The air was tense and silent.

"_It's gone._"

.

Daryl had left tracks. Anna had been surprised to find them, but she figured he'd done it on purpose in case she changed her mind about joining him for his hunt. Carol had wanted to be the one to tell him the news, but Anna was the only other one of the group who could track.

He'd gone about a mile, circling around the group. She could tell he was tracking a deer, she wondered if maybe he'd already caught it, or if he'd call off his hunt once he found out. Or maybe they'd just keep going. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted to happen. She wasn't quite sure about anything.

A dark shape caught her eye a few feet away and she stopped, careful not to step on anything. She studied the shape for a moment before she realized it was a walker, crouched over a bloodied lump on the ground.

"Son of a bitch," came a hiss as a bolt pierced the head of the walker.

Daryl strode out of the trees to retrieve his bolt, seeming to not notice her. She watched him as he kicked the walker off the deer before he loaded his crossbow. Looking down, she spotted a twig on the ground and stepped on it, the sound of it snapping deafening in the quiet forest.

Daryl whirled around, aiming his crossbow at her. She didn't react, just stared at him. He dropped his bow and sighed.

"I almost shot you," he snapped.

"You don't shoot unless you know what you're shooting at," Anna said, shrugging as she made her way over to him, stepping over raised roots and fallen trees.

She stood in front of him, peering up at him. His face was guarded, carefully controlled. Anna knew that he'd come out here for more than just hunting – they had plenty of supplies back at the vehicles.

"Change your mind?" He asked, purposefully walking around her to search for new tracks.

"Yes and no," Anna sighed. "Rick walkied."

Daryl stopped and turned back to her, waiting for her to continue. Anna bowed her head, closing her eyes.

"It's gone."

When she looked up again he took a step back and ran his hand down his face. She could see that he was trying very hard to keep himself under control. He was angry, and she didn't know how to help him. Not with this.

"Daryl, I'm sorry," she said, her voice hushed as she stepped toward him, reaching out.

He stepped away again, keeping distance between them. Anna tried to convince herself that the rejection didn't hurt, reminding herself that this was important to all of them. This was what Beth had wanted, it was a way to honor her memory, and now it was gone.

Just like everything else.

"We should head back," Anna suggested, gesturing for him to follow her. "Rick and the others will be back soon – we'll need to figure out what to do next."

Daryl took a deep breath, steadying himself before he nodded and headed back to the road. He paused as he passed her and reached out, brushing his hand against hers. Anna let herself feel the warmth of his skin until he pulled away, and she followed after him.

The trip back was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. But the sound of crying pulled Anna back to reality. Sasha stood in the tree line, holding herself as tears streamed down her face. Without thinking, Anna made a beeline for her.

"Sasha, what happened?" She asked the second she reached the woman.

Sasha wiped at her face, stifling her sobs.

"Tyreese was hurt," Carol said as she approached, still holding the walkie.

Anna stared between the two. Sasha walked off, following the road down a few yards before crouching, holding herself again. Anna watched her.

"He didn't make it."

.

"We look not at what can be seen, but we look at what cannot be seen," Gabriel said, reading from his little black bible. "For what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal."

_"I can see their faces. See who they were before."_

"For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God…,"

Anna stared at the ground. She knew what Gabriel was speaking of. He was speaking of a place they could be safe. A place they could call home. A place that could only be reached in the after. Rick thought that might still be DC, despite Eugene's lie.

They were boats sailing in a storm, desperately searching for a safe place to dock, to seek refuge.

"A house not made from hands, eternal in the heavens," Gabriel finished.

Anna could feel it in her bones, in every fiber of her being. No matter how far they traveled, how hard they searched, there was no safe harbor.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

The air was still and hot, her skin was coated in a layer of sweat and grime. She could feel the tree against her back, the earth under her, the knife in her hands. Anna dug the blade into the root beside her. She could feel the world around her. But everything was empty.

She raised the knife, held it in front of her face and stared at the tip, a speck of wood clinging to the metal. With her thumb, she brushed the speck off only to hiss and flinch back. A bead of red blossomed on the pad of her thumb. After a moment of staring at it, watching the blood trickle down her thumb, Anna pressed her index finger against the nick. A sharp pain radiated down her thumb.

"You find anything?"

She didn't bother looking over at her brother as he watched her wipe her hands on her jeans and stand.

"There's nothing out here," Anna said, looking around at the forest.

The leaves were still green and the insects still called, but the sun blazed down on them through the trees, and she knew that this place was dead. And maybe she was too.

She was trying to feel it. But she couldn't.

.

Three days. It was three days since they ran out of food. They were low on water and they'd just run out of gas. The group filed out of the white van and started down the road, barely on their feet. Anna cursed how hot it was. She'd never liked winter, but she'd never wanted it so badly.

Anna shuffled along between Daryl and Jessie, absently staring at the pavement as they walked when Daryl turned around. She and Rick followed his gaze and found a gaggle of walkers following behind them a few yards away.

She hadn't heard them, so caught up in her own thoughts.

"We're not at our strongest," Rick said as he and Daryl turned back around. "We'll get 'em when it's best. High ground, something like that," he explained, adjusting his grip on Judith. "They're not going anywhere."

Anna wiped at her face as sweat dripped dangerously close to her eyes.

"It's almost been four weeks since Atlanta," Rick started, looking to Daryl. "I know you lost somethin' back there."

Anna grimaced. Despite their promise to deal with their losses, they'd both been struggling to find a way to do so. Neither of them had been exactly forthcoming with each other on their feelings, but Anna knew he wasn't ready to talk about Beth yet.

"She's hungry," Daryl said, changing the subject.

"She's okay. She's going to be okay," Rick insisted.

"We need to find water, food," Daryl continued.

"We'll hit somethin' in the road," Rick assured. "It's gonna rain sooner or later," he mused.

Daryl slowed, looking off towards the trees before holding his rifle out to Anna.

"I'm gonna head out," he said. "See what I can find."

"Don't be too long," Rick instructed as Anna took Daryl's rifle.

She opened her mouth to offer her company when Carol spoke.

"I'll go with you," Carol said.

"I got it," Daryl grumbled, walking off.

"You gonna stop me?" Carol teased, following after him.

As Carol passed Anna, she reached out and squeezed her arm. Anna nodded to the older woman, deciding maybe Daryl needed Carol in this moment. She watched them disappear through the trees.

"He'll be alright," Rick assured Anna as the group continued on. "He's still here."

"I know," Anna said, her voice firm.

She'd never admit that she was scared.

.

.

"Anything?" Carol asked as the pair walked through a clearing.

Daryl scanned the ground, searching for any sign of water or possible food. He found nothing.

"No," he said. "It's too dry. There ain't nothing here."

"Maybe we should start back," Carol suggested.

"You go," Daryl instructed, continuing to look around – not exactly sure what he was looking for anymore.

"I think she saved my life," Carol said.

Daryl tensed. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want to talk about it. He couldn't.

"She saved your life, too, right?" Carol pushed.

He could hear Carol approaching him as he tried to shove the memory of her big blue eyes out of his head.

"It was hers," Carol said.

He looked down to see her holding a pearl handled knife in a light brown leather sheath. He stared at it for a moment before taking it in his hands, turning it around and around until he gripped it tight, trying to keep the shaking from his fingers.

"We're not dead," Carol said.

He looked to her; his face carefully unemotional.

"That's what you said," she continued. "You're not dead."

Daryl wanted to believe her, but the empty feeling in his chest told him she was wrong – that he had been wrong.

"I know you," Carol went on. "We're different. I can' t let myself—" she paused, swallowing hard. "But you… I know you." She reached out to touch his arm. "You have to let yourself feel it."

Daryl stared at her, his face betraying nothing as she brushed his hair from his forehead. Carol pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his forehead before pulling away.

"You will," she whispered.

He didn't look at her as she walked away.

.

.

Anna gazed over the side of the bridge, considering the height. It wasn't tall enough to be of anymore use to her than what Rick had planned – and she hated herself for thinking that. Eugene, Gabriel, Carl, Judith, Noah, Rosita, and Tara stood at one end of the bridge while

Anna stood on one side of the bridge with Rick, Glenn and Michonne while Jessie stood beside Abraham, Sasha and Maggie. It was finally time to deal with their stalkers. All of them were poised for the approaching walkers as they snarled and growled at them.

It was an easy plan. Lure the walkers close to the edge and shove them over. It required little effort – not that they had much to give anyway. As Rick shoved the first of the walkers over the edge, the others followed suit. Dodging and shoving and just trying to stay standing.

There was a ringing in her ears, a high-pitched whine. She scrunched up her face in pain, pressing one ear to her shoulder and then the other.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut and shook herself, trying to get that damn ringing out of her head. The snarls of the walkers were distant to her now as she blearily opened her eyes. A corpse was nearly on top of her.

Her movements sluggish, she stumbled to the side and shoved the walker over the edge of the bridge before another walker grabbed hold of her. Vaguely aware that the others had broken ranks and were now fighting, Anna struggled with her attacker, the ringing in her ears deafening.

She blinked.

Suddenly it wasn't a walker staring back at her. It was Evan Magnus.

Her eyes went wide, her brows furrowed as she took in the crow's feet around his eyes, the freckles splattered across his face, his wide, goofy grin. He was alive, in front of her.

"Evan?" She asked, her voice sounding like it was underwater.

She blinked.

The ringing stopped.

The walker's jaws snapped closer to her face, yanking on her arms to try to get closer. She shoved it back and it fell to the ground, its gripping hands ripping at her sleeves. Wasting no time, Anna pulled her knife and lunged forward, plunging the blade into the walker's forehead.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she tore herself away from it, slashing her knife out blindly. Daryl jumped back, barely dodging the blade. Anna stared at him in horror as her chest heaved.

"You good?" He asked, taking a tentative step towards her.

Anna looked between him and the walker on the ground. The others had dealt with the rest already. They were safe. But Anna felt unease settle into her bones.

"I could've hurt you," she breathed, her eyes scanning his body for injury.

"But you didn't," Daryl assured.

Anna shook her head, sheathing her knife.

"Hey," Daryl called, resting a hand on her shoulder again.

She looked up at him, feeling the weight of his hand on her.

"You good?" He asked again.

There was something in the way he looked at her that made her face twist in irritation. It was the way he seemed to have arranged it into careful control. Anna knew him well enough to know that he was hiding. She shrugged his hand off her.

"Fine," she snapped as she turned on her heel and walked away.

As she stormed off, that feeling of unease sloshed around in her stomach. She felt cold.

Empty.

.

The group continued walking. Despite Anna's growing frustration with the man, she refused to put too much distance between her and Daryl.

She was angry. He had promised to try – pinky promised – and yet he was still shutting down and shutting her out. Granted, Anna had made the same promise and wasn't exactly forthcoming with him on her mental state, but at least she was trying.

Anna was so caught up in thoughts of the state of her relationship with Daryl that she almost didn't notice the group had stopped walking. Glancing around for the reason for this pause in their march, Anna's eyes fell on the shining tops of cars just up ahead.

"I'm gonna head into the woods," Daryl informed. "Circle back."

"May I come with?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl snapped. "No, just me."

Rick nodded before turning to Anna.

"You go the other way," Rick instructed as Daryl walked off to the right. "You two are our best trackers – if there's anyone out there, you'll find 'em."

"I'll go with you," Jessie offered, hiking up his rifle on his shoulder.

"You'll slow me down," Anna sighed.

"I want stealth for this one," Rick said, nodding. "Just Anna and Daryl."

Without further ado, Anna took off towards the left, bracing her rifle against her shoulder as she started through the trees.

.

The breeze blew through the trees and the insects called as Anna made her way through the forest. She was trying to be quiet, but in her state it was far too easy to lose her footing. Anna took a moment to catch her breath as she braced herself against a tree.

So far, she hadn't found anything interesting, and knew she should be heading back to the others, but she couldn't seem to get her feet to move in that direction. D.C. was a little less than sixty miles away, and she couldn't fathom they'd have any more luck there than they had anywhere else. With this pessimism in mind, Anna was reluctant to return.

She leaned her head against the tree, feeling the bark scratch at her forehead, and closed her eyes.

"Anna," came a whisper on the breeze.

Her eyes snapped open and she whirled around, searching for the source of the voice. She turned every which way, frantic when fingers wrapped around her ankle and pulled. She fell back with a yelp of surprise and landed hard on her stomach.

Yanking her foot free, Anna turned over onto her back, drawing her side arm as she faced her attacker.

Sitting there on the ground, staring back at her, was Tyler Anderson.

"You—" she choked, her eyes widening. "You're not real," she insisted. "You're dead."

Anderson was leaned against the tree, his face impassive as he watched her.

"If I'm not real, why are you talking to me? Just shoot," Anderson said.

Anna shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.

"I saw—" she stopped herself.

"You saw Evan," Anderson finished for her.

"No, he wasn't real either," she snapped.

"Alright then. Maybe you're hallucinating – dehydration can cause the brain to swell," he explained, tapping his temple with his index finger.

Anna dropped her gun in her lap and heaved a sigh.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"Why are you?" He countered.

Anna scoffed, pulling her knees up.

"Not ready to go back."

"Why? What are you afraid of?" Anderson asked, his heavy gaze not letting up.

Anna looked away then, pursing her lips.

"That it's all for nothing," she admitted. "We keep trying and it all just gets ripped away from us. What's the point in trying anymore?"

"You sound like a child," Anderson sneered. "The world doesn't owe you a reason to keep going – you've got to find that on your own. I thought you knew that." Anderson threw his hand out, pointing at her. "You've had that damn bracelet for over two years, you should have figured it out by now."

Anna furrowed her brow and looked down at the shining metal plate on her wrist. _May you live all the days of your life_. She raised her eyes to meet his.

"The people I love keep me going."

"People die," he sighed. "No matter how much you love them, they die or they change – you loved Marley, and look what happened with her."

"I—"

"Keep working on it. You'll figure out what those words really mean."

"Just tell me!" Anna pleaded, her ears ringing.

"Fine. If you insist," he said, surprising her. "The bracelet is about—" The ringing in her ears drowned out his voice.

"What?"

"It means—" he repeated, leaning forward, but the ringing snuffed out his words.

She crawled forward, meeting him halfway. His form blurred.

"It means—"

Anna blinked to clear her vision, and suddenly he wasn't Anderson anymore. She scrambled back as the walker swiped at her. She tugged her knife out of its sheath, then plunged it through the walker's skull, just as its fingers clutched her jeans. It collapsed into her lap.

Her chest heaving, she shoved the corpse off of her and fell back, staring at the sky as she tried to catch her breath.

_Just the dehydration. Brain swelling, _she reminded herself. _Need to get back to the others._

Once her breathing had evened out, Anna picked herself up and made her way back to the road.

_Only an illusion._

_._

By the time Anna had arrived back at the road, Daryl had already returned, having found nothing on his trek through the woods. Rick decided now would be a good time to rest, regain their energy. She sat down across from Daryl and beside her brother.

Anna looked at her thumb, at the slice in the pad, and pressed her index finger to it. The pain was dull and aching, having had too much time to heal for it to have the same affect. She dug her nail into the cut, opening it up again. The throbbing turned to piercing and she let the pain fill the void in her chest.

_"You sound like a child," Anderson sneered._

She grimaced, wondering if the others were seeing things too – talking to ghosts. She couldn't fathom why Evan had appeared to her on the bridge, or why she spoke to Anderson in the woods, and she was scared of what she might see next.

Thunder rumbled overhead. Anna turned her wrist so that she could read the silver plate for what must have been the millionth time.

_May you live all the days of your life._

Anna was starting to hate the words. She felt that the meaning behind them should have been obvious to her, but it was like there was some sort of film blocking her, and all she could see were silhouettes.

Her ears were ringing again. She pressed them against her shoulders, trying to get the high-pitched whine out of her head when she heard the crack of a twig. Her head snapped up, looking into the trees, and she locked eyes with Marley Herring.

Anna's breath hitched in her throat, and she stared openly. Marley smiled at her, a crease between her brows, as she raised her gun. Anna flinched, panic rising in her chest as the ringing pierced her ears. She blinked and Marley was gone.

"So, all we found was booze?" Tara asked.

Anna shook her head, confusion wrapping around her.

"Yeah," Rosita sighed.

"It's not gonna help," Tara muttered.

"He knows that," Rosita said.

Anna looked to Abraham as he took a long pull on a bottle of amber liquid.

"It's gonna make it worse."

"Yes, it is."

"He's a grown man," Eugene said. "And I truly do not know if things can get worse."

"They can," Anna said, furrowing her brow.

She felt Jessie tense beside her when there came a rustling from the woods, followed by growling. Everyone turned their attention to four feral dogs erupting from the trees. The animals snarled and barked at them and Anna slipped her knife from its sheath, slowly getting into a crouched position.

One dog looked to her and she couldn't tear her eyes away.

"_You don't know what it is to be hungry."_

Anna shook Gareth's voice out of her head as she got to her feet. She swayed, dizzy and lightheaded. She had to take a step to keep from falling. As she blinked the world into focus, she could hear the sounds of a silenced rifle going off four times.

Bracing herself against a tree, Anna stared at the four feral dogs lying motionless on the ground, blood seeping out onto the asphalt.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Their boots scuffed against the pavement as they continued their march to D.C. Anna wasn't sure how much longer they had anymore. She could still feel the dog meat resting in her stomach, digesting – she wondered if the others felt as disgusted as she did.

_So much for man's best friend_, she thought, laughing quietly to herself.

"What's so funny?" Jessie asked.

Anna sobered, realizing that her thought wasn't so much funny as it was morbid, causing her to question why she was laughing at all. There wasn't anything funny about their situation.

"Nothing," she sighed, furrowing her brow as unwarranted guilt washed over her.

She knew it was ridiculous to feel guilt or shame simply because she laughed at something that wasn't funny, but she couldn't stop the feelings from rising to her chest. She clenched her jaw and pinched her thigh in an attempt to keep herself under control, reminding herself that she had no reason to feel this way.

"Hey, Anna – take a drink," Glenn instructed as he came up beside her, holding a bottle of water.

She looked at the water, glistening in the plastic, and counted in her head how many people were in the group. Seventeen people needed water, and based on how much was left, they'd each only get a sip before it was gone.

"Let the others drink first," she sighed, shaking her head as she gently pushed the bottle away from her.

"Daryl went to go find more. You need to drink," Glenn insisted.

"Glenn," Anna groaned. "He may not find any. Please, let the others drink first – I'll take what's left."

She could see Glenn clench his jaw before he relented and continued on. She watched him go down the line, offering water to everyone as he went.

"How heroic of him," Jessie said flippantly.

"Glenn's just trying to look out for everyone," Anna sighed.

"I wasn't talking about Glenn," he muttered

Anna furrowed her brow as she paused, looking at him.

"Daryl?"

Jessie worked his jaw, glaring straight ahead.

"What is your problem?" Anna snapped, pulling him to a stop. "I thought we were past this. It's like he can't do anything right by you."

"Sorry," Jessie sighed, his jaw relaxing. "He's not a bad guy. It's just… I don't like you two together."

"I'm not asking you to like it."

"Do you still love him?" Jessie asked. "I mean, after everything. Do you still love him?"

"Yes," Anna said quicker than she had time to really think about it.

But she didn't need to think about it. She hadn't had to think about it for a while now. It was simple – as easy as breathing. She loved him and that was all there was to it. No matter how hard things got, how upset she may be with him, she loved him.

"Does he feel the same?"

Anna tensed at this. She thought about all of the rejected touches, how he had been shutting her out, pulling away. She hated to admit it, but Jessie had a point. Suddenly, Anna couldn't help but ask herself – why would he?

"Hey, hold up," Rick called, his hand in the air, indicating for everyone to come to a stop.

"The hell is that?" Abraham asked.

.

.

Daryl sat down and leaned against the tree before reaching into his pocket to pull out what was left of the cigarettes Anna had given him. He stuck one between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag. Settling in, Daryl turned his attention to a structure just a few yards off. A barn.

He hated barns. Ever since the farm, he'd had an aversion to them. He knew why, he just didn't like to think about it. He didn't like to think about a lot of things, preferring to ignore everything until it went away. That's how he had always dealt with things. It was the only way he knew how.

"_I try if you try."_ That was the deal. And he couldn't even do that.

He couldn't get his old man's voice out of his head, shouting at him to nut up and stop acting like a bitch.

Daryl felt empty. He'd killed Dawn for what she did, but it didn't fill that void in his chest. It didn't make him feel better. It didn't make him feel anything.

Taking the cigarette from his lips, Daryl stared at the collection of ash at the tip, watching as the paper and tobacco burned away. He took one last drag before he pressed the end to his hand, holding it there as his skin sizzled until even the searing pain faded into nothing.

He wiped the ash off his skin and dropped the cigarette to the ground, resting his head against the tree, listening to the call of the insects.

Beth's eyes flashed in his mind, her voice ringing in his ears. _"...and we'll buy a beer to shotgun, we'll lay on the lawn and we'll be good. Now I'm laughing at my boredom and my string of failed attempts."_

Breath catching in his throat, Daryl's chest heaved and a sob ripped from his throat. A gut wrenching, chest constricting sensation consumed him, and he couldn't stop himself from feeling it. He just wanted it to stop.

.

.

They stared at the water bottles and jugs on the ground. Rick held a piece of paper in his hands. Anna had her eyes trained on the trees, searching. They were being watched. How had she not noticed?

A twig snapped and she raised her rifle, only to find Daryl coming out of the woods. She lowered her gun and relaxed, suddenly realizing how tense she was without him in sight.

Rick walked over to him and passed him the paper.

_From a friend_ was written on it in sharpie.

Daryl crumbled the paper in his hands and took his crossbow from his shoulders, eyes scanning the trees just as Anna had done.

"What else are we gonna do?" Tara asked, not taking her eyes off the water.

"Not this," Rick insisted. "We don't know who left it."

"If that's a trap, we already happen to be in it," Eugene stated. "But I, for one, would like to think it is indeed from a friend."

Anna shook her head, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

"What if it isn't?" Carol asked. "They put something in it?"

Anna looked over just in time to see Eugene step forward and take a bottle from the ground.

"Eugene!" Rosita snapped.

"What are you doing, dude?"

"Quality assurance," Eugene said, unscrewing the cap and tilting the bottle towards his mouth before Abraham slapped it out of his hands.

Water splashed across Eugene's face and onto the pavement, and all Anna could think was how much of a waste that was.

"We can't," Rick said firmly.

There was a rumbling overhead, and Anna squinted up at the sky. A single, cold drop of water hit her cheek and rolled down her face. She blinked and wiped it away, staring at it on her fingers. And then it was raining.

She felt the water washing over her, felt relief from the heat, felt it soaking her skin and clothes. She felt nothing else.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Gabriel cried beside her. "I'm sorry."

"Everybody get the bags," Rick demanded. "Anything you can find. Come on."

Thunder clapped and roared as the storm grew closer and harsher, and Judith began to cry. Their reprieve was over.

"Let's keep moving!" Rick declared over the pouring rain.

"There's a barn!" Daryl called.

"Where?"

.

Daryl led them through the trees, their bodies drenched as they approached the small structure with the red roof. Rick, Glenn, Abraham, Maggie, and Anna filed into the barn with guns raised as they cleared the building.

Anna caught sight of a stack of books. At the very top was the Holy Bible. She shook her head, turning her attention toward Maggie as the woman pushed a wooden door open. Inside was a walker amidst sheets and empty cans of food, trying desperately to crawl towards them.

She stared at it. At the cobweb on its head, and its bright blue eyes and lips pulled over its teeth. She shined her light on it, then around the room, and she saw it. A rifle leaning against the wall.

Maggie pulled her knife and plunged it into the walker's skull.

Carol came then, standing beside Anna.

"She had a gun," Maggie said, her voice numb. "She could have shot herself."

"Some people can't give up," Carol offered. "Like us."

Anna considered the assertion. She decided it was bullshit.

.

They started a small fire, Daryl breaking off wet pieces of wood to try and keep it going before he gave up and sat back. Anna sat between him and Jessie, holding her knees, trying to ignore the way her body shivered. She wanted nothing more than to curl up into Daryl's side, but she was afraid, her brother's question still echoing in her ears.

"I'll try," Glenn said, leaning forward for some more wood.

"No, too wet," Daryl insisted.

"He's going to be okay," Carol said to Rick as the man looked to his sleeping children. "He bounces back – more than any of us do," Carol explained.

"I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now," Rick started. "In this…. But I think I got it wrong. Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them."

"This isn't the world," Michonne said. "This isn't it."

"It might be," Glenn sighed. "It might."

"That's giving up," Michonne said.

"It's reality," Anna corrected.

"Until we see otherwise, this is what we have to live with," Rick interjected.

Anna shook her head. She didn't believe they would ever see _otherwise_. This was it. This was all they had to look forward to. She wasn't going to fool herself into thinking there was an after.

"When I was a kid…," Rick began. "I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff, so…, so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him."

_"This world doesn't give a shit about your ridiculous notions of right and wrong, Anna!"_ Marley's voice screamed in her head.

"But he got real quiet…. He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day he woke up and told himself, "Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war.""

_"When you're out there!" Shouted Drill Sergeant. "When you're out there, you remember this. The moment you set foot on the other side of that fence you are presumed dead. Killed in action. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, Drill Sergeant!"_

"And then after a few years of pretending he was dead…, he made it out alive. That's the trick of it, I think," Rick sighed. "We do what we need to do and then we get to live. But no matter what we find in D.C. I know we'll be okay. Because this is how we survive."

_"It's just survival,"_ Marley's voice hissed.

"We tell ourselves… that we are the walking dead," Rick whispered.

Anna stared into the flames. _You're dead,_ she thought. She'd been dead for a long time; she just didn't want to admit it. She wanted to keep pretending she was a person, that she had come back from it all.

"We ain't them," Daryl said and she looked to him as he crouched in front of the fire, snapping some more twigs to throw into the flames.

"We're not them," Rick said. "Hey," he called.

Daryl looked to him.

"We're not," Rick assured.

Daryl set the twig down and stood.

"We ain't them," he repeated before grabbing his crossbow and walking off.

Anna couldn't tear her eyes away from him until he disappeared into the shadows. She turned back to the fire, chewing the dead skin off her bottom lip. Absentmindedly, Anna reached down and picked at the holes in her jeans from where her nails had dug through.

_"We ain't them,"_

Clenching her jaw, Anna climbed to her feet and followed after him.

He was pacing in front of the barn doors when she found him. Like a wild animal, trapped. Anna wasn't quite sure why she had followed him, or what she had intended to say. The storm raged on outside while another, much different storm raged on inside.

She opened her mouth to call out to him, to try and calm him down, when he set down his crossbow and stepped up to the doors. Whatever he saw, he slammed against the doors and pulled tight on the chain.

Anna's eyes widened, and she took in the panic on his face. That was all she needed to run forward and throw all of her weight against the doors beside him. With her body pressed against the wood, she could hear them – the walkers – snarling and growling over the howling wind and crashing thunder.

She felt the door give way in their favor as another body joined them – Maggie – and then another – Sasha. It wasn't long before the others noticed their struggle and jumped in to help. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the doors to stay closed, feeling the monsters push back against their efforts.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered what the point was. Why any of them should keep fighting so hard when everything they strived for was ripped out of their grasp.

A glint of light on her wrist caught her attention, and Anna stared at the silver plate, the scratches and dents telling their own story like words on a page.

_May you live all the days of your life._

Her eyes flicked up and found purchase on Daryl's face, twisted up in a fury she had never seen before.

_"Do you love him?"_

_"What are you holding on to?"_

_"Take it from a dyin' man; ain't no time to waste."_

And suddenly, it clicked. For the past two years, she had been in the tumultuous ocean, unable to see past the violent storm as she struggled to stay afloat with a few leaks in her boat. But now she could see it. The lighthouse, piercing through fog in her mind and showing her the way to safe harbor.

Anna stiffened her body, digging her heels in, finding purchase in the mud. Her ears were ringing and wet hair stuck to her drenched face as the rain sprayed through the cracks in the doors. She was tired, weak. But she held firm.

"_What are you holding onto?"_

She'd lost sight of that somewhere along the way. Too consumed with guilt and shame to realize what she had. A chance. Not for the first time in a long time, because that chance had always been there. She was just too afraid to take it.

But she couldn't be afraid anymore.

"_Live."_

_._

_._

Daryl leaned against the wall, running his fingers over his beard as the rest of the group slept. Not far off was Anna, laying on her side with an arm tucked under her head. He watched her for a while, even after the sun rose, taking in the tranquility of her face. It was the longest she had slept in a while.

He caught movement and saw Maggie walking toward him, her steps silent before she sat beside him. She looked to him after a moment.

"You should get some sleep," she said, quiet to avoid waking the others.

He nodded, dropping his hand away from his face. "Yeah," he said.

He knew she was right; he just wasn't ready to close his eyes quite yet.

"It's okay to rest now," she assured.

The two looked over at Sasha, passed out in a pile of hay, curled in on herself and alone. Tyreese hadn't deserved to go out the way he did. Sasha didn't deserve to lose her brother.

"He was tough," Daryl said, picking at his nails.

"He was," Maggie agreed.

Daryl's mind turned to Beth. For the first time, it didn't hurt to think about her.

"So was she," he said. "She didn't know it, but she was."

Maggie looked to him and smiled.

He reached over and grabbed the small green music box Carl had found scavenging and handed it to Maggie.

"The gearbox had some grit in it," he explained.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Maggie looked back at him and smiled before climbing to her feet. He watched her go over to Sasha, waking her, and the two slipped out of the barn.

Daryl sat there for a moment, looking back at Anna sleeping soundly on the ground. Finally, he got to his feet and made his way over to her and laid down, being careful not to wake her.

He took in her face, surrounded by a mess of dark brown hair. Gently, he wiped the hair off her forehead and her eyes opened the slightest bit. She looked back at him, groggy, and she smiled. It was the first time he'd seen her smile since – he couldn't exactly remember, but it sent his heart racing in his chest.

"I love you," she mumbled before closing her eyes again, her breathing even as she fell back to sleep.

His eyes widened as he stared at her. His gut twisted painfully as he tried to make excuses and explanations as to why she would say it, convincing himself she was delirious from dehydration and exhaustion. She didn't mean it. She didn't – she couldn't – love him. Not him.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

The group sat around the barn, checking over their weapons and gear. Everyone was quiet, focused on their tasks. Except for Anna. She sat in a corner, absently going through the bullets she had left, thinking about what had happened last night.

Working her jaw, Anna considered what she had to do – today, before she convinced herself it was unnecessary. Because it was necessary. It was the only way it would stop. She needed to be held accountable for what she did. The only person she could fathom telling was Jessie. He was the one she knew she could rely on for this.

She couldn't tell Glenn – he was dealing with his own stuff. And she couldn't tell Daryl. She didn't think she could handle how he would react. So it had to be Jessie. He'd been there for her before. He knew how to handle it.

It had to stop.

What also needed to stop was her procrastination with Daryl. She'd wasted enough time with him. She needed to tell him she loved him. The dream she'd had last night of telling him had solidified her resolve. She would tell him. Today.

"Hey!" Came Maggie's voice from the other side of the barn door. "Everyone," she said as the door creaked open.

Anna looked up, silently watching as Maggie stepped to the side. Anna's breath caught in her throat as she clambered to her feet, cocking her gun.

"This is Aaron," Maggie introduced as the others jumped up and aimed their weapons.

Daryl rushed forward, checking the outside before patting Aaron down.

"We met him outside. He's by himself," Maggie explained. "We took his weapons and we took his gear," she assured.

Anna watched him standing there, his hands raised. She took in how clean he looked.

"Hi," he said.

Judith immediately began to wail, and Rick handed her off to Carl, in whose arms she fell silent.

"It's nice to meet you," Aaron said, stepping forward with a hand outstretched.

Everyone shifted threateningly and Aaron froze, the smile dropping from his face.

Anna couldn't place it, but he seemed familiar. She couldn't think where she might have known him from, and that put her on edge.

"You said he had a weapon?" Rick asked.

Maggie walked forward and handed him a small, black revolver. Rick counted the bullets before tucking it in his pants.

"There something you need?" Rick hissed.

"He has a camp nearby," Sasha informed. "He wants us to _audition_ for membership."

"I wish there was another word," Aaron sighed. "Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of dance troupe," he laughed. "That's only on Friday nights."

The corners of Anna's lips twitched upwards at his joke before she set her face in a deep frown. No one laughed and Aaron swallowed hard, shaking his head as if scolding himself for trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Um… and it's not a camp," he stuttered. "It's a community. I think you all would make valuable additions. But it's not my call. My job is to convince you all to follow me back home."

Anna scrunched up her face, uncomfortable with the risk.

"I know," Aaron continued. "If I were you, I wouldn't go either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into. Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack?" Aaron asked, turning to Sasha.

Anna could see how careful he was not to move too much or too quickly as Sasha approached Rick and handed over the tan backpack.

"Front pocket. There's an envelope."

Rick took the bag and knelt, unzipping the front pocket to pull out an orange envelope sleeve.

"There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those," Aaron said to the whole group. "I apologize in advance for the picture quality," he laughed nervously, fidgeting with his fingers. "We just found an old camera store last—"

"Nobody gives a shit," Daryl snapped.

Anna stepped forward, peering over Rick's shoulder as he pulled out a stack of papers.

"You're absolutely, one hundred percent right," Aaron conceded. "That's the first picture I wanted to show you because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe. If you join us, you will be," he insisted.

The first photo was a blurry, black and white shot of a wall, braced by bars.

"Each panel in that wall is a 15-foot-high, 12-foot-wide slab of solid steel framed by cold-rolled steel beams and square tubing. Nothing alive or dead gets through that without our say-so."

Anna didn't know what square tubing was, or what was so significant about steel beams being cold-rolled, but the picture looked just how she remember Fort Benning's walls. She was certain that place was still standing.

"Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact, there's only one resource more critical to our community's survival. The people."

Anna glanced around, gauging how the others were taking his speech. She decided it sounded too rehearsed, and she still couldn't figure out why he felt so familiar. She didn't trust it.

"Together, we're strong. You can make us even stronger," Aaron declared. "The next picture, you'll see inside the gates," Aaron went on.

Rick dropped the pictures to the ground and walked up to Aaron, who didn't seem to be paying much attention.

"Our community was first constructed—"

Anna sighed, dropping her gun to her side as Rick slammed his fist into Aaron's jaw and the man fell to the ground, unmoving.

.

Anna peered down at Aaron, tilting her head as she tried to recognize his face. There was a bruise forming on his jaw.

"We got to secure him. Dump his pack," Rick ordered. "Let's see what this guy really is."

"Rick," Michonne hissed.

"Everybody else, we need eyes in every direction," Rick continued. "They're coming for us. We might not know how or when, but they are."

Anna helped Daryl tie Aaron's hands and feet.

"Me and Sasha, we didn't see him," Maggie said. "If he had wanted to hurt us, he could've."

"Anybody see anything?" Rick asked, ignoring her.

"Just a lot of places to hide," Glenn answered.

"Alright, keep looking," Rick said, heading over to Carl.

Anna pushed herself to her feet and followed after him, prepared to tell him about the twisted feeling in her gut.

"What did you find?" He asked Carl.

"Never seen a gun like that before," Carl said, handing over a bright orange flare gun.

"It's a flare gun," Anna said. "You use it to signal others to your location – usually when you need help," she explained as Rick took the gun and checked its barrel before he nodded and walked away.

Anna heard groaning and looked back at Aaron as he woke up. He looked around at the others and gave a light laugh.

"That's a hell of a right cross there, Rick," he praised.

"Sit him up," Rick ordered.

"I think it's better if—"

"It's okay," Aaron assured, cutting Maggie off.

"He's fine. Sit him up."

Aaron groaned as Michonne and Maggie helped him into a sitting position. Anna walked forward, getting a better look at him.

"You're being cautious. I completely understand—" Aaron started.

"How many of your people are out there?" Rick interrupted. "You have a flare gun. You have it to signal your people. How many of them are there?"

"Does it matter?" Aaron sighed.

"Yes," Rick said, his voice low. "Yes, it does."

"I mean, of course, it matters how many people are _actually_ out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there?" Aaron countered. "Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say – eight, thirty-two, four hundred and forty-four, zero – no matter what I say, you're not going to trust me."

"Well, it's hard to trust anyone who smiles after getting punched in the face," Rick said.

"How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you in the road?" Aaron offered.

"How long you people been following us?" Daryl demanded.

"Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail. Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water, you never turned on each other," Aaron said earnestly. "You're survivors. And you're people."

Anna tilted her head at that. She wondered if Aaron had meant to separate the two descriptors, or if it had been a subconscious thing. Either way, she thought he was right – there was a distinction. A fine line between just surviving and actually living and she had fallen over that line headfirst. Now she was determined to climb back over it.

"Like I said, and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again, that is the most important resource in the world," Aaron insisted.

Anna considered how the last time someone thought of people as resources it was as food. She figured he needed to find a different way to describe them.

"How many others are out there?" Rick asked again.

"One." Rick shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. If it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real?" Aaron pleaded. "What if I drove you to the community? All of you? We leave now, we'll get there by lunch."

"I'm not sure the seventeen of us are going to fit in the car you and your one friend drove down here in," Rick sneered.

"We drove separately. If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home. There's enough room for all of us," Aaron insisted.

"And you're parked just a couple miles away, right?" Carol asked, suspicious.

"East on Ridge Road, just after you hit Route 16. We wanted to get them closer, but then the storm came, blocked the road. We couldn't clear it," he explained.

"Yeah, you've really thought this through," Rick sighed.

"Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here," Aaron informed. "You know, light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit. You can trust me."

Anna kept her eyes on him, her jaw set and brows furrowed. Her stomach was twisting as she tried to place him in her memory. But the only thing she could think of was a man on a plane, smiling at her and asking if she didn't like flying.

"I'll check out the cars," Michonne offered, pulling Anna out of her memories.

"There aren't any cars," Rick grumbled.

"There's only one way to find out," Michonne pushed.

"We don't need to find out."

"We do," Michonne said firmly. "You know what you know and you're sure of it. But I'm not."

"Me neither," Maggie agreed.

Rick shook his head, working his jaw. "Your way is dangerous, mine isn't."

"Passing up someplace where we can live?" Michonne argued. "Where Judith can live? That's pretty dangerous. We need to find out what this is. We can handle ourselves. So that's what we're gonna do."

"Then I will, too," Glenn said. "I'll go."

Anna shook her head. She understood that if they rejected Aaron and his offer, they were choosing to continue the way they'd been going for far too long. She also understood that if they accepted the offer, they risked falling into another trap like Terminus, and Anna wasn't willing to put herself or any of them in that situation again.

"Abraham," Rick called.

"Yeah. I'll walk with 'em," Abraham assured, raising his rifle and walking over to the door.

"Rosita?" Rick asked, looking to the woman.

"Okay."

"If there's trouble, you got enough firepower?" Rick asked, turning to Glenn.

"We got what we got," Glenn sighed.

Rick handed him Aaron's little revolver while Daryl hauled Aaron to his feet and led him over to one of the support pillars.

"The walkies are out of juice," Rick stated. "If you're not back in sixty minutes, we'll come. Which might be just what they want." Abraham, Rosita, Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne walked out. "If we're all in here, we're a target."

"I got the area covered," Daryl assured, picking up his crossbow and heading out.

"Alright, groups of two, find somewhere safe within eyeshot," Rick commanded.

Anna nodded, snatching up her rifle and heading out after the others. She jogged to catch up with Daryl. Deciding now was as good a time as any to tell him how she felt – while they were alone.

"I'm takin' Carol," Daryl announced as she neared.

"Oh," Anna said. "Alright – I needed to talk to Jessie anyway," she muttered, not bothering to hide her dejection.

She headed off to find her brother and the two disappeared into the trees. They found a comfortable place to hide within a small alcove of bushes and trees and sat back to back, with Anna facing the barn.

"You think it's real?" Jessie asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Anna admitted. "I want it to be." She shook her head, pulling her knees up and holding them. "I've met all sorts of people since the turn. I've seen how it breaks you down until there's nothing left."

Anna furrowed her brow, a realization coming over her.

"He reminds me of Evan," she said.

"How so?"

"Evan wasn't in this new world long enough to be changed by it. That guy – Aaron – it's in his eyes. He hasn't been broken yet."

"Yet?" Jessie asked, and she could feel him move to look over his shoulder at her.

"Sooner or later, it's going to happen," Anna said, shrugging. "How he deals with that, how he comes back from it – that's up to him."

Jessie hummed in response.

"You've changed," he said. "You're not the same person you were before."

"I hope I'm not the same person I was _yesterday_," Anna muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…," Anna trailed off and let out a heavy breath. "I've been doing it again," she finally said, pressing her hand against her thigh.

Jessie was silent for a long time and she wondered if she needed to clarify. But then he spoke.

"I know," he whispered. "I didn't _know_, but I suspected. After mom and dad—"

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, frowning.

"I didn't want to believe it – I didn't want it to be true," he sighed. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Because I want it to stop," she said firmly. "I know it's up to me to stop it, but I can't do it alone."

"Does Daryl know?"

"No. And I don't want him to – not yet," Anna said, pleading.

"He's going to find out eventually," Jessie warned.

"I know," Anna groaned. "I'm just not quite ready for that."

.

Anna leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest and eyes trained on the cans of food. Her stomach was churning painfully, and all she wanted to do was break into one of the cans and devour the food inside.

_"You don't know what it is to be hungry,"_ came Gareth's voice in her head again.

_Fuck you, Gareth, you cannibalistic little shit,_ she thought bitterly.

"This, this is ours now," Rick said, holding a can of what looked like corn.

"There's more than enough," Aaron sighed.

"It's ours whether or not we go to your camp," Rick said firmly.

"What do you mean?" Carl asked, stepping forward. "We wouldn't we go?"

"If he were lying or if he wanted to hurt us," Michonne started. "But he isn't and he doesn't," she said, looking around at everyone. "We need this. So we're going, all of us," she declared. "Somebody say something if they feel differently."

"I don't know, man," Daryl grumbled from across the barn beside Abraham. "This barn smells like horse shit."

"Yeah," Rick muttered. "We're going. So where are we going?" Rick asked, turning to Aaron. "Where's your camp?"

"Well, every time I've done this, I've been behind the wheel driving recruits back," Aaron said hesitantly. "I believe you're good people. I've bet my life on it," he said as Michonne walked forward. "I'm just not ready to bet my friends' lives just yet."

"You're not driving. So if you want to get home, you'll have to tell us how," she said while Rick pulled out a map and laid it out on the ground.

"Go north on Route 16," Aaron said after a moment.

"And then?" Michonne pushed.

"I'll tell you when we get there," Aaron said.

"Yeah, that's not going to work for us," Anna said, shaking her head.

"We'll take 23 north," Rick said, nodding his head. "You'll give us directions from there."

"That's – I don't know how else to say it – that's a bad idea," Aaron insisted. "We've cleared 16. It'll be faster."

Rick stared at him for a moment, considering him.

"We'll take 23," he stated simply. "We leave at sundown."

"We're doing this at night?" Sasha asked.

"Look, I know it's dangerous," Rick began. "But it's better than riding up to the gates during the day. If it isn't safe, we need to get gone before they know we're there."

"No one is going to hurt you," Aaron interjected. "You're trying to protect your group, but you're putting them in danger."

"Tell me where the camp is, we'll leave right now," Rick offered.

Aaron shook his head and looked away.

"It's gonna be a long night," Rick said, standing. "Eat. Get some rest if you can," he instructed heading outside.

Michonne followed after him and Anna pushed off the wall, snatching up a can of S'Getti Rings and a spoon before finding a comfortable spot in the corner. It took everything she had not to scarf it down. She wanted to savor it. Enjoy every last bite.

"Here," came a gruff voice above her.

Anna looked up to see Daryl holding a bottle of water out to her. She took it, nodding in thanks, and sipped on it, watching him as he walked away with his own can of food.

Anna sucked in a bit of breath and nodded. She looked to Aaron, still tied up on the ground. When he looked back at her, he gave a nervous smile, as if afraid she was going to lash out at him, hurt him like Rick had. She shifted on her feet, wondering what she looked like to him, wondering what her descriptor was. Soldier? Survivor? Person?


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

The R.V. swayed, the cans and jars in the cupboards rattling as they moved down the road behind the car. It was pitch dark outside, the only light coming from the head and taillights of both vehicles. Anna didn't bother weighing the pros and cons of driving under cover of dark.

She sat on the edge of the couch, hunched over, braced against her knees as she glanced between the ugly orange carpet and Daryl, who stood behind Abraham in the driver's seat. He hadn't said a word to or looked at her since handing her the bottle of water. It seemed he was content with icing her out.

Shaking her head, Anna wiped her hands down her face in an attempt to clear away some of the sweat. She wondered what was going through his head – why he was so determined to push her away. It had been roughly two years since that day in the forests of Georgia, and since then, when it came to Daryl Dixon, there were two things Anna was absolutely certain of; she loved him, and it would take a hell of a lot more than a cold shoulder for that to change.

Clenching her jaw, Anna rose to her feet, ready to pull him aside and say as much when the R.V. came to a screeching halt and she fell forward, her head barreling towards the counter before she caught herself, hands slamming against the counter. She heard a crack and felt pain shoot up from her right wrist but she pushed herself up, wincing as she flexed her hand.

Having no time to worry about the damage, Anna pushed to the front of the R.V. and peered out the window.

"Shit," Abraham hissed as they stared at the herd of walkers in their path, bigger than they had ever seen.

"You see the others?" Rosita asked.

Anna shook her head and backed up, patting Daryl on the shoulder.

"Give me a leg up, I'm gonna see what I can up top," she said, positioning herself below the ceiling's escape hatch.

Without a word, Daryl crouched, interlocking his fingers to cradle her foot and hoist her up. She pushed the hatch open and climbed up, ignoring the pain in her wrist as she put weight on it. She stood on the roof of the R.V. and looked out over the ocean of walkers, searching for the car Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Aaron had taken. She saw nothing but the dead heading toward them.

With a groan, Anna climbed back down, landing solidly on her feet.

"Can't see them and there's no way we can make it through that herd," she declared.

"We need to circle around, hope they made it through," Abraham sighed, nodding.

"We can't just leave them," Glenn interjected.

"We don't exactly have a choice," Carol said, nodding towards the front of the R.V.

The walkers were surrounding the front of the vehicle.

"We need to get the hell out of Dodge," Abraham said firmly, throwing the R.V. in reverse. "Hold on!" He called, hitting the gas.

The hulking vehicle lurched, throwing Anna off balance once again and right into Daryl. He steadied her before pulling away to hold onto a cabinet, his back to her. Anna muttered a thanks as she grabbed hold of the counter.

Abraham turned the R.V. around and switched gears, rocketing them back the way they came until they hit a turn off and were able to head towards 16 - _like we should have in the first place_, Anna thought bitterly.

"The hell?" Abraham said.

Anna leaned forward to get a good view out of the front window and saw that the sky had been lit up by the bright red light of a flare. Her eyes followed the trail of smoke it left behind.

"That could be them," Daryl said.

"It came from the water tower," Noah called.

Abraham shook his head and started for the tower.

.

It didn't take them long to reach the water tower, but Rick and the others were nowhere to be found. Anna figured that was for the better as she took in the swarm of walkers shambling through the field after the flickering red light of the flare. Abraham brought the R.V. to a stop.

Grimacing as she stared out the window, her eyes followed the trail of smoke down to a rusted out car. There, surrounded by the dead, was a lanky man, a pistol in one hand and a flare gun in the other.

"We have to help him!" Carl exclaimed from beside her.

"We've got our own shit to deal with," Daryl grumbled, pacing. "Let's go," he demanded, gesturing for Abraham to get moving again.

"Wait, we can't just leave him!" Gabriel pleaded, stepping forward.

Anna clenched her jaw, weighing their options and watching as the man collapsed to the ground, the rusted out heap of metal rolling over his leg.

"We can," Abraham corrected.

"Look, I don't feel great about it either, but Daryl's right," Jessie said.

As the walkers grew closer and closer to the man, his cries for help reached her ears. She just wished things would slow down, give her time to think, but Abraham was already pulling away. The thought of leaving him to his fate was sickening, and the sheer nausea in her stomach made her mind up for her.

"Stop!" She shouted, and Abraham slammed on the breaks, throwing them all off balance.

Anna shouldered her rifle and headed for the door, wondering if it should have been an easy choice.

"You ain't goin' out there," Daryl growled, his hand a vice around her arm.

"I'm not asking for permission," Anna snapped, yanking her arm out of his grasp before throwing the door open and jumping out.

With six bullets in her rifle and five in her 9mm, Anna pushed forward, shooting into the crowd of walkers. Not long after, she heard gunfire coming from behind her; an arrow whizzed past her face, and she knew the others had joined her.

She reached the clump of walkers just as she ran out of bullets, swapping the gun out for her knife. Anna plunged her blade into skull after skull as she made her way to the rusted car and the stranger, his cries for help spurring her on. When she finally reached him, he was frantically fending off a corpse as it snapped and snarled at his face.

Heaving the body off the stranger, Anna rammed her blade into its skull and threw it to the ground before turning her attention to the man.

"Thank you!" He said through labored breath. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Can you walk?" she asked, examining his leg.

"I—I think so," he stuttered, attempting to push himself up.

"What's your name?" she asked as she helped him stand.

"Eric."

"We got more comin'!" Daryl shouted as walkers trickled out of the surrounding woods.

Anna nodded and called for some assistance, only for Jessie to appear on the man's other side. Together, the siblings supported the man and the group rushed back to the R.V. The moment they were all on board, Abraham hit the gas, and they sped away from the water tower.

.

Daryl and Jessie were pissed. Specifically at Anna. The group had made it into a small office building next to a warehouse not far off from the water tower and decided that would be the best place to wait for Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Aaron.

Anna stayed with Maggie and Eric, tending to Eric's ankle. That's what Anna decided to focus on while avoiding the two very angry men whom she didn't doubt wanted to have a few choice words with her.

"It looks like it's broken," Maggie declared, pulling Anna from her thoughts. "We'll need to put a brace on it – got any in that R.V.?"

"Unfortunately, no," Eric sighed.

"It's okay, I think I can make something with what we've got," Anna assured, grabbing a couple of pieces of wood in the corner and what looked like a discarded T-shirt.

She made quick work of binding Eric's ankle, careful not to cause him too much discomfort.

"Thank you. For this and for saving me. I know you didn't have to," Eric said, smiling at Anna as she finished tying off the T-shirt. "It was dangerous, but you did it anyway. Thank you."

Anna nodded, forcing herself to return the smile as she wiped her hands on her jeans and stood up.

"Get some rest," Maggie instructed, leading Anna back to the main area of the building where everyone else was gathered.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Tara asked as the two entered the room.

"Yeah, it's just a broken ankle," Maggie said.

"Could be a trap," Abraham huffed from where he leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he rubbed at his mustache.

"If it is, it's been poorly executed," Anna said.

"Speakin' of poorly executed plans—" Abraham started, turning his attention to Anna. "What the hell was up with breakin' ranks – you think you're some kind of one-woman army?"

"A decision needed to be made—" Anna ground out.

"A decision _was_ made," Jessie hissed.

"It was the wrong damn decision," she snapped.

Jessie opened his mouth to say more when a knock at the door cut him off. The others had arrived. Carl quickly passed Anna Judith, not giving her an option in taking the infant, and rushed out the door, followed by Maggie.

"Dad!"

"Your sister okay?" Anna heard Rick ask after a moment.

Anna and Judith stared at each other. As much as Anna liked the little girl, she'd never held her and – as everyone filed out of the building to meet with Rick, Glenn, and Michonne – she'd never been alone with her either.

"Eric? Eric?" Aaron called. "Eric?"

"In here!" Eric responded finally.

"Eric!" Aaron shouted, bursting through the doors.

He looked to Anna frantically and she gestured to the shelves they had set Eric up behind. He disappeared behind them and she did her best to ignore their conversation, smiling lightly when Eric said he liked her and Maggie.

Judith cooed, bringing Anna's attention back to her as Rick returned, everyone else following behind him. Maggie came to stand beside her, hands on her hips as she pursed her lips.

"They told Rick what happened – what you did," she informed softly.

Anna grimaced. She wasn't looking forward to that conversation any more than she was to the conversation she would no doubt have with Daryl and Jessie. She looked back at Judith and sighed, the little girl making a confused sound as she reached for Anna's face, her little fingers pressing against her cheeks.

"I can take her," Carl offered, stepping up and holding out his arms.

"It's okay," Anna assured, remembering a time she was terrified of getting too close, afraid that she would taint the purest thing left in this world.

Somehow, holding Judith now only reinforced her resolve for saving a stranger.

"Excuse me," Aaron called. "Excuse me. Everyone."

The group turned to Aaron, Rick just behind him and leaning against the shelves.

"Thank you. You saved Eric. I owe you," he said, looking particularly at Anna before shifting his gaze to the others. "All of you. And I will make sure that debt is paid in full when we get to our community. When we get to Alexandria. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I'd rather not do any more driving tonight. Maybe we can hit the road tomorrow morning?" he asked, turning to Rick.

"That sounds fine," Rick agreed. "But, if we're staying here for the night, you're sleeping over there," he said, pointing at the other side of the building.

"You really think we got to do that?" Maggie asked.

"It's the safe play," Rick insisted. "We don't know you."

"The only way you're gonna stop me from being with him right now is by shooting me," Aaron said firmly.

When it didn't look like Rick would budge, Aaron took a step forward to push past, only for Rick to put his hand on his Python.

"Whoa!" Glenn called, putting himself between the two men. "Rick," he said, looking to the man. "He told us where the camp is, and he really was only travelling with one other person. They're both unarmed. One of them has a broken ankle," he listed off. "I want us to be safe, too. I can't give up everything else. I know what I said, but it _does _matter."

"Alright," Rick finally relented, letting Aaron pass.

The group dispersed, finding comfortable places to rest. While Rick discussed watch with a few of the others, Anna wandered off with Judith to a secluded part of the building.

The little girl rested her head against Anna's chest, cooing as Anna swayed. She hummed a few random tunes before she started to softly singing "Somebody To Love" by Queen at a steady rhythm until Judith's breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

"You're good with her."

Tensing, Anna turned around to find Jessie watching her. She relaxed and returned to swaying Judith.

"I think the last time I saw you hold a baby it cried until it's face turned purple," Jessie chuckled.

"That was when I decided I was never going to make babies," Anna muttered. "Are you here to talk about my fear of babies or are you here to lecture me about what I did?" She asked, tired of waiting.

"What you did was stupid, Anna – you could've gotten yourself killed," Jessie started, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Judith. "But, I get why you did it. You thought you had to. You probably had some convoluted idea that saving him meant you were making up for things you've had to do."

Anna considered interrupting him, explaining to him why he was wrong. But she decided she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"It's survival now, Anna. We do what we have to do so we can keep living – and sometimes that means _not_ doing something. It's that simple," he finished.

Taking a deep breath, Anna gazed down at Judith still sleeping soundly.

"You're wrong," she finally said. "Life isn't that simple. Never was, never will be. Every single one of our actions – or inactions – has a consequence. We may survive by the things we do or don't do, but we still have to live with the consequences,

"Rick killed Lamson – that cop from Grady – didn't even think about it. Just shot him in the head and walked away. We could have used him in the trade – could've traded him for Noah. But we didn't have him and Beth died."

"What does that have to do with this?" Jessie asked.

"If we had let Eric die, do you think Aaron would have told us where Alexandria was? Do you think he would have let us go back with him?" She asked.

"How would he have known?" He countered.

"He knew Eric was here, Jess. He would've known," Anna said.

"So, you saved Eric to ensure we get to go to Alexandria?"

"No."

"No? Then what was all that about consequences?" Jessie demanded.

Anna gently brushed a bit of dirt off Judith's forehead, stilling in her swaying.

"What kind of people are we going to be after all of this?" She asked.

"After all of this?" Jessie scoffed.

"There has to be an after," she nodded. "Otherwise, what are we surviving for?"

"There's not going to be an after for you if you keep taking risks like that," Jessie hissed before turning on his heel and storming off.

Anna sighed, exhausted as she watched him leave. Turning back to Judith, she couldn't help but smile, knowing that no matter what, Anna was going to make sure the world after was going to be worth all the struggle and that they deserved to be in it.

"He's right, you know," Rick said, cutting into her thoughts from where he stood leaned against the shelves. "You're smart. You don't take risks unless you're sure of the outcome – and you certainly don't risk everyone else's lives. I know that you know that if you keep up this hero act, you won't make it."

Anna pursed her lips, casting her gaze to the ground.

"Is that what you want? To not make it?" He asked, reaching out for Judith.

Careful not to wake her, Anna gently passed Judith over to Rick, and the little girl settled easily into his chest. She wiped her hands on her jeans before crossing her arms over her chest, unsure of how to respond to his question.

"I don't know if I _deserve_ to make it," she finally admitted. "Maybe I shouldn't have made it this far, but I have. That's got to mean something," she let out a long breath. "I don't know if there's a God – I never cared. I still don't, really. And if there's not some divine power giving meaning to the bullshit, well… we'll just have to do it ourselves."

"Maybe you're right," Rick sighed, shaking his head.

Anna was taken back for a moment, not expecting him to agree with her – not after everything.

With a final nod, Rick turned around and headed for the main part of the silent building, leaving her alone in the dark.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

They approached cautiously, weapons drawn and eyes focused. As much as Anna wanted this place to be real, even she was on edge. At the front of the group, Aaron helped a limping Eric up to the gate as it squealed open. Anna's fingers twitched over her rifle, admittedly terrified of what lay on the other side.

A can rattled and, as one, the group whirled around, guns aimed as Daryl let loose a bolt into a shrieking opossum. It twitched once and fell still. Quickly, he snatched it up by its tail and everyone turned back to the gate as it opened further, revealing a man with dark curly hair and a disgruntled look on his face.

"We brought dinner," Daryl said, cutting through the tense silence.

The man looked between the dead opossum and the rest of them, his lip curling in disgust.

"It's okay," Aaron assured, making the man look to him. "Come on in, guys," Aaron called, gesturing to them.

Glenn and Daryl walked in first, looking around the immediate area before the others filed in. Anna and Abraham were the last to enter, her eyes never leaving the curly haired man as he shut the gate behind them. Her stare seemed to put him off, as he did his best to keep distance between them while he made his way to the front of the group.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all to turn over your weapons." Anna's grip on her rifle tightened. "You stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick sneered.

"It's fine, Nicholas," Aaron assured.

"If we were gonna use 'em, we would have started already," Rick added.

Nicholas – the curly haired man – narrowed his eyes at the group, tensing, fidgeting. Anna didn't like it when people with guns fidgeted.

"Let them talk to Deanna first," Aaron stated.

"Who's Deanna?" Abraham demanded.

"She knows everything you'd want to know about this place," Aaron explained. "Rick, why don't you start?"

Rick turned to the others, looking over all of them before his eyes landed on something outside the gates.

"Sasha," he called, nodding.

Sasha turned around, the snarling of a walker reaching Anna's ears before a silenced gunshot cut it short. None of them flinched or batted an eye. They all knew Sasha didn't need to take out that walker. It was merely a display of what they were capable of.

"It's a good thing we're here," Rick said, following Aaron down the road.

.

They were led to a driveway surrounded by hedges and a large deck attached to a two-story grey and white house. Standing at the railing on the deck, looking out over the group, was a tiny woman with shoulder length, sand colored hair. She gave them all a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Everyone, this is Deanna." Aaron introduced.

"Hello," Deanna greeted. "Welcome to Alexandria. By now I'm sure Aaron has explained how we do things around here. You all look exhausted so I'll try to keep things brief. Which of you is the leader?" She asked, though her eyes fell on Rick at the front of the pack.

He stepped forward and she gestured for him to follow her into the house, where they soon disappeared. Minutes ticked by, and a round woman with glasses rolled a plastic, grey trolley through an opening in the hedges and onto the driveway.

As they awaited Rick's return, the group stood in a tense silence, their eyes trained in every direction, taking note of escape routes and places to take cover. They wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

Anna's eyes fell on the round woman who fidgeted under her intense gaze. The woman cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

"Hi there, I'm Olivia," she said.

No one said a word, and Olivia's face turned beat red as she bowed her head, mouthing _okay_ to herself. Anna almost felt bad for not reciprocating Olivia's hospitality, but she reminded herself that, until revealed otherwise, they were in potential enemy territory.

Several minutes ticked by before Rick returned with Deanna. The group looked to him expectantly, waiting for his word.

"I don't know if we're gonna stay, but we will rest here, get our strength back. So, _for now_," he stressed, "we're gonna hand over our guns."

"They're still your guns," Deanna assured as the group stepped forward one by one to pile their rifles and sidearms atop Olivia's trolley. "You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall. But inside here, we store them for safety."

Carol set her rifle down last, her movements awkward, like she'd never handled a weapon before. Anna was careful not to shoot the woman a questioning look, deciding there was a reason she was putting on a show.

"Should have brought another bin," Olivia said as she backed out of the driveway and disappeared with their weapons.

Anna felt naked without her rifle and 9 mm and instinctively stepped closer to Daryl, only for him to move away from her. Biting her cheek, Anna carefully arranged her face into an expression of neutrality, consciously adjusting her body language to reflect indifference. She had no intention of conveying her emotions until she was in private – perhaps than she could confront Daryl on his distance. But until she was away from the prying eyes of strangers, she would remain stoic.

"Carl," Rick called, gesturing for the boy to step forward, Judith in his arms.

Rick muttered something in his ear before he followed Deanna inside, Judith still on his hip. Rick turned his attention to the rest of the group.

"Deanna is going to interview all of us. After that, Aaron will show us where we'll be staying until we decide," Rick explained.

Some of them nodded but they all remained silent, seeming to agree that they needed to present a united front. After roughly fifteen minutes, Carl returned with Judith and Deanna.

"Rick why don't you and Carl go with Aaron and check out where you all will be staying," Deanna suggested. "Who's next?" She asked, turning to the group.

Michonne stepped forward as Rick and Carl followed Aaron down the street.

Everyone got comfortable standing, sitting, or leaning against the house. Anna positioned herself beside Abraham, where she had a good view of everything from the house to across the street.

"It just tickles my biscuits that we have to audition for this shit," Abraham grumbled.

"It's how they do things," Tara sighed.

"At least they aren't throwing us in train cars and trying to eat us," Anna muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That is a fair point," Abraham said, looking to Anna.

When Michonne came out, Carol went in, and so they waited fifteen more minutes before the next interview. This pattern continued, some taking less time than others. Daryl carried his opossum in and spent the least amount of time inside with a total of ten minutes.

With his return, it came down to Anna. She'd allowed the others to go before her, putting off the interview for as long as possible, her nerves getting the better of her. She made her way up the deck steps, pausing as she passed Daryl.

"How'd it go?" She asked.

"Fine," he grunted, continuing past her.

Anna took a deep breath, ignoring the ache in her chest, and followed Deanna inside and into the living room.

Immediately gravitating towards the stacks and shelves of books, Anna scanned the titles until her eyes landed on the smeared brown handprint on the window frame. She suddenly realized just how dirty they all were as she wiped at the grime on her cheeks.

"Do you mind if I record this?"

Tensing, Anna remembered Deanna's presence as she turned around, forcing herself to relax. The woman was extremely short, only coming up to about Anna's shoulders. Despite her height and lack of weapons, Deanna didn't wilt under Anna's hard stare.

Flicking her gaze over to the small black camera mounted on a tripod behind the couch, Anna nodded slowly. Deanna pressed a button and a little red light switched on. Had the others been recorded too?

"Please, have a seat.

Anna looked to the armchair positioned in front of the built-in bookshelves, center frame for the camera. When she didn't make a move to sit, Deanna did, getting comfortable on the couch just to the right of the camera.

"My name is Deanna Monroe," she introduced.

"Anna Wycoff."

"How old are you?" Deanna asked, tilting her head.

Anna furrowed her brow, trying to count back. "I think I'm twenty-six," Anna finally said, deciding it didn't really matter how old she was.

"What were you before all of this?"

"Doesn't matter," Anna said, shaking her head.

"What makes you say that?" Deanna sighed, leaning forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. "My husband, Reg, was a professor of architecture before all of this – he was able to put up the walls to keep us all safe. What he was matters," she insisted.

"My brother – Jessie – was going to school for engineering – what he was matters," Anna said, nodding her head. "What I was—" she shook her head, curling her lip in annoyance. "That hasn't helped me since it all started."

"I doubt that very much," Deanna said, her lips twitching up at the corners. "Who we were before matters. It contributes to who we've become."

Anna thought about that for a long moment. What she was had been stripped away until she was nothing. Until she could be built back up into what she'd become.

"Before, I was in college," she finally said. "I wanted to be an author. But words don't kill walkers."

"No, they don't," Deanna agreed, pressing her lips together. "You wanted to tell stories," she started, clasping her hands and pointing at Anna. "I'm willing to bet you have one hell of a story to tell now."

"I tried to write my story and other people's stories, record events – I kept journals," Anna explained before pausing and shaking her head. "But all of that is gone now. I lost those journals when we had to run _again_."

"Why not try again? Be the historian of this place."

Anna scoffed.

"I'm serious," Deanna said firmly, scooting forward to the edge of her seat. "You don't have to run anymore, Anna."

Anna stared at Deanna for a long moment, considering her words. Was it true? Was the constant running and leaving everything behind finally over?

"I'll think about it," Anna said finally with a sigh, ready for this interview to be over.

"I'll take it," Deanna grinned.

.

Anna stepped outside sometime later, shutting the door behind her only to find the driveway empty except for a tall man leaning against the garage, chewing on his thumb nail. At the sound of her arrival he looked up, his hand dropping away from his face to reveal a welcoming smile.

As she descended the deck stairs, the man pushed off the garage and held his hand out to her, his smile shifting into an unassuming, almost sheepish grin.

"I'm Spencer Monroe," he said.

Cautiously, Anna took his hand and gave it a firm shake before pulling away.

"Anna Wycoff."

"Aaron already took your friends to the houses you'll be staying in," he explained, gesturing over his shoulder. "I thought I'd hang back – help you find your way."

Anna nodded, allowing him to lead the way out of the driveway and down the street in the direction she had seen Aaron leading Rick and Carl earlier. Spencer seemed to set a deliberately leisure pace, hands in his pockets as she matched his stride.

"I think you'll like Alexandria," Spencer said, breaking the silence. When Anna said nothing, he continued. "It's safe. People are happy here."

"What's security like here?" Anna asked, attempting to seem noncommittal.

"We have a watch schedule – there's always someone on guard," he replied.

"What about patrols around the perimeter?" Anna pushed.

"Uh… no?" Spencer said. "Why are you asking? Plan on raiding us?" He asked, his voice teasing.

"You should have patrols around the perimeter," Anna said, ignoring his remark.

"I'll uh—I'll talk to my mom about that," he assured.

Anna nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"Well, here we are," Spencer announced, stopping in front of a tall grey house with a bright yellow door.

Rick bounced Judith on his hip on the front porch as Daryl gutted his opossum at the top of the steps. She didn't miss the quick look he sent their way, but at this distance, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Uh…," Spencer muttered.

She looked to Spencer to find his eyes on the opossum's insides splayed out in front of Daryl.

"Thanks for the tour," Anna said, calling his attention back to her.

He flashed her a smile, his face relaxing as he looked down at her.

"Of course – if you need anything, you know where I live," he said, stepping away from her. "It was nice meeting you, Anna."

Anna nodded and watched for a moment as he sauntered away before she started up the walkway. She put one foot on the first step and peered up at Rick.

"You shaved," she observed.

Rick nodded, smiling kindly at her before turning to Judith. Anna looked to Daryl, his focus on the opossum in his hands.

"Can I help?" She asked, figuring now would be as good a time as any to talk to him about his behavior towards her.

"Nah, I'm good," he grunted, keeping his eyes on the animal.

"They've got running water," Rick said quickly. "Why don't you head inside, try and snag a shower before the others use up all the hot water?" He suggested.

Anna nodded, casting her gaze between Rick and Daryl. "Yeah," she relented, stepping over Daryl's work, pushing down the hurt she felt over his coldness.

She'd deal with it later.

.

"Fuck," Anna groaned as the hot water washed over her skin and soothed her aching muscles.

She tilted her head back to let it run over her face and down her neck before she looked down to watch as the grime and sweat of the past too-damn-long disappeared down the drain at her feet.

She focused on scrubbing at her skin with a soapy cloth until it turned pink and raw before she worked shampoo and conditioner into her hair. When she was done, it lay flat and tangle-free. As an excuse to stay under the steaming stream of water longer, Anna took the time to shave, afterwards unable to stop running her hands over her skin.

Anna couldn't help but smile. She felt lightheaded from the aromas mingling with the steam filling the bathroom. Reluctantly, she eventually shut the water off and stepped out, covering her body with a fluffy, blue towel.

On the counter was a purple toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste that she made ample use of, brushing her teeth at least four times. After drying off and pulling on a fresh set of clothes, Anna toweled her hair and pulled a brush through it.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the muddled shape of her reflection in the steamed mirror. She wiped the condensation off. Reaching out, she touched the image of herself, almost unable to recognize the person in front of her.

Having no intention to count the differences between the Anna of before and the Anna of now, she gathered her toiletries, clothes, and towel, and opened the door. In the living room, she dumped her possessions on the floor beside her pack and began to pick through it, deciding which things she would need most to set them aside before turning to her pack and emptying it. She rerolled her clothes and stuffed them to the bottom of her pack before she began to add and rearrange items.

Finally satisfied, she gathered the last three items left unpacked; _The Hobbit_, her iPod, and its charger. Picking them off the ground, Anna tossed her bag into a corner beside her brother's and stood.

On the other side of the room was Daryl, sitting on a bench glancing between Judith in her crib and the window. It was dark outside and everyone was tired, having had their fill of food provided by the Alexandrians. She considered going over and talking to him, to ask him why he was giving her the cold shoulder, but she didn't even know where to start.

A knock came at the front door and everyone tensed, some – including Anna – grabbing for their knives. Rick pushed the tan blinds aside to peer out the door's window before he sighed and opened the door.

Deanna stepped through and paused, staring at Rick.

"Wow," she said, taking in his shaven face. "I didn't know what was under there," she grinned. "Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling—" she stopped in her explanation as she looked at them spread out in the living room. "Oh, my. Staying together. Smart," she praised.

"No one said we couldn't," Rick insisted.

"You said you're a family. That's what you said," Deanna continued, smiling at Rick and then the rest of them. "Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

Anna bowed her head before casting her gaze at Daryl. They'd come from completely different worlds before all of this. They had lived separate, drastically different lives. She wondered, if they had met before the turn, whether they would have wound up together like they had.

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, pulling Anna from her thoughts.

"Yeah," Deanna nodded. "Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all," she laughed.

"Well, you didn't give me one," Rick said.

"I have," Deanna corrected. "I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. Anna's yet to accept my offer. And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will," she assured.

Anna huffed, silently wishing Deanna luck in her endeavor. Despite knowing Daryl for as long as she had, she still sometimes felt lost when it came to him. Especially now as he shut her out.

"You look good," Deanna said to Rick before heading back outside.

Rick slowly shut the door behind her.

"It's late, we should get some sleep," Rick declared.

No one argued as they settled down and he turned out the lights. Anna found a place beside Jessie, noticing the way everyone seemed to instinctively leave a space open on Anna's other side for Daryl. But the man didn't move from his spot on the bench by the window.

With a heavy sigh, Anna laid on her side, her back to him and Jessie, with one arm tucked under her head, the other hand outstretched in the space where Daryl should have been.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

Crouching down beside the wall, Anna slid the plug into the outlet before attaching her iPod to the other end. The screen remained black. She wasn't sure what she had expected – it had been sitting on her shelf collecting dust for the past two years. It was stupid to think it would still work after all this time.

Anna set the iPod on the table beside the outlet and stood, grimacing down at the device. She turned on her heel and exited the house. The porch was empty and she could see the others heading off to the left. Anna decided she'd rather spend some time alone, and so went down the steps and to the right.

Anna made her way down the sidewalk, her mind immediately going over tactical scenarios for every house she passed and street she turned down. Focused on contingency plans, she almost didn't notice the figure creeping up in her peripheral. Almost.

In a quick, fluid motion, Anna drew her knife from its sheath and readied herself for a confrontation. Frozen, hands raised in submission, was Spencer Monroe.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to sneak up on you," he said, looking between the sharp blade and her face.

Allowing herself to relax, Anna slipped her knife back in its sheath.

"I saw you walking, I figured you might have been lost," he explained, lowering his hands to his sides.

"I'm not lost," she assured.

Spencer nodded. "Right, of course," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I could, maybe, show you around, though?" he asked, his voice nervous.

Anna figured it would be easier to find things if she had a tour guide. It wasn't that she was looking for anything in particular, but she felt uneasy not knowing where the armory or infirmary were – two of the most important places in the event of an attack, accompanied only by the supply cache.

"Alright," she finally said, turning her body to indicate which direction she wanted to go.

Spencer grinned at her and started off, keeping a slow pace so she could keep up with his long legs. He began pointing out houses as belonging to certain people or as empty.

"If you decide to stay, you can move into one of the empty houses – you know, if you wanted," he informed.

As he went on, Anna listened silently and observed their surroundings. There were a few people walking about who waved at Spencer but seemed content to leave the two alone. She was grateful, as she wasn't interested in meeting the neighbors just yet.

"Over there is where the kids go to school," Spencer said, pointing out an open garage where an assortment of young children gathered in front of a man and a rolling chalkboard. "The little kids go in the morning and the older kids go in the afternoons. Mr. Sinclair was a high school teacher before the turn. I was finishing my undergraduate. What about you? What did you do?" he asked, finally pausing in his rambling.

"I was finishing my undergraduate, too," Anna said, almost reluctant to tell him.

"Really? What were you going for?" he pushed.

"English – creative writing."

"That's cool. I guess you'll be helping Mr. Sinclair?"

"Your mom didn't mention it," Anna muttered.

"So what job did she give you, then?"

"She wants me to be the historian," she grumbled, rolling her eyes.

Spencer hummed. "And you don't like that? That seems like an easy gig."

"It's not a very useful gig," Anna corrected.

"I don't know how useful it is, but it's not like you're only allowed one job here," he assured. "Why not give it a try and when you're not doing that, maybe you can do something else – like help Mr. Sinclair," he suggested.

"I'd rather do patrols around the perimeter," Anna huffed.

"But, that's dangerous."

Anna shot Spencer an incredulous look.

"Not that you couldn't handle it!" He said quickly. "I just mean that, you know, given the option, I'd rather go the easy route."

"Easy isn't always better," Anna warned.

"True, but this seems like one of those times where you can skimp a little on the hard stuff," Spencer countered, grinning sidelong at her. "Oh! That's the infirmary, over there. Pete's the doctor – he was a surgeon before," he said, pointing at a two story house with a bench on the small porch.

"Down a few more houses is the pantry and armory. Olivia runs it, you can get whatever you need from there," he said, pointing further down the road to an open garage, where Anna could see Olivia standing at a rack of cans.

The two continued, Spencer waving at Olivia, who shot Anna a wary gaze as they passed. It wasn't long before they had looped around Alexandria and were heading back towards the house. She could see Daryl on the porch, smoking a cigarette. As they approached, she could feel his eyes on them. Spencer didn't seem to take notice, continuing his idle chatter as they made their way up the walkway to the front steps.

"Thanks for the tour," Anna said, turning to face him, blocking him from going any further. "I appreciate it."

He nodded, smiling at her before he looked to Daryl.

"Hey," he greeted. "Daryl, right?"

Daryl said nothing, his eyes unwavering as he stared at Spencer and took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through the side of his mouth and away from Anna. Putting out the cigarette, Daryl cast an unreadable look at Anna before turning and walking inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Uh—right," Spencer said. "He doesn't like me very much, does he?"

"Don't take it personally," Anna instructed, frowning at the yellow door. "I'll see you later," she said, starting up the stairs.

"Yeah, see you later, Anna," Spencer replied.

She didn't look back until she had stepped through the threshold, seeing Spencer making his way down the street.

Shutting the door, Anna let out a long sigh. Spencer was a nice guy but she found him exhausting.

"Did he kiss you bye?" Daryl asked, mocking.

"What?" Anna asked, turning to frown at him. He was sitting against the back of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at her.

"Your new boyfriend. Did he kiss you bye?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You been hangin' around with that pretty boy ever since we got here," he sneered, pushing off the couch.

"You know it's not like that. And it's more like he's been hanging around me," she grumbled.

"Well, you don't seem to mind."

"I'm sorry," Anna scoffed, bristling. "I didn't realize we were _all_ supposed to be assholes to the people here and not associate with them. Besides, it's not like you've been keen on having me around."

Daryl worked his jaw, his eyes narrowing. Her muscles tensed, hurt and frustration from the past few days boiling over into anger.

"You know what, since we're on the topic – what exactly did I do to piss you off?" She demanded. "I thought we agreed to try, and you've barely talked to or even looked at me since we left my house. I shouldn't have to beg you to talk to me!"

"I'm sure Spencer would just love to _talk_ to you," Daryl hissed.

"This isn't about Spencer," Anna snapped, "this is about us. Or can I even say there's an 'us' anymore?"

Daryl's body went rigid, his face blank as he stared at her. He didn't say anything, and Anna didn't try to stop him as he brushed past her and left the house.

Anna stood there, heart racing as she stared at the empty space where he had just been standing, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

_Is it really over? Just like that?_

_._

Daryl didn't return to the house until much later in the night when everyone else had come back from their exploring. Anna immediately isolated herself from the rest of the group, choosing instead to hide away upstairs to read _The Hobbit_ on the floor of a random bedroom.

But she couldn't focus on _The Hobbit_. Her mind kept going over everything that was said between her and Daryl. She found ways she could have said certain things better and decided that some things she didn't need to say at all. As her mother used to say, she hadn't engaged her brain before speaking.

Anna flinched at a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, her voice cracking before she cleared her throat.

Glenn pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Dinner is ready," he announced.

Anna grimaced. "I'm not hungry," she said, looking back to her book.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Glenn asked, walking further into the room and sitting down beside her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, only for him to give her a skeptical look. "Daryl and I got into a fight," she sighed.

"What happened?" Glenn asked, incredulous.

"Honestly, I don't even know," she groaned, pressing her palms into her eyes. "I think we broke up."

"You think?" Glenn pushed.

Anna launched into a retelling of the argument and what led up to it. She told him about their promise and the subsequent breaking of that promise, of how Daryl had been pushing her away and of the hurt she'd been stewing in. When she finally fell silent, Glenn took a deep breath.

"Okay… well, uh…," he trailed off, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Technically, you guys didn't agree to end things – you said what you said and he left. Maybe…, maybe you both just need some time to cool off," he suggested.

"Cool off," Anna muttered, pulling her knees up as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Maybe there's something else bothering him," Glenn contemplated, rubbing at the hair on his chin.

"If there is, he won't fucking tell me," Anna grumbled.

"So, either you accept that or you don't."

Anna felt herself deflate, her chest tightening. Glenn was right. Those were her only options. She hated ultimatums.

.

The next morning, Anna didn't so much as wake up as she just stopped pretending to be asleep. She climbed out of the small nest she'd made for herself in the corner of the room and went through her morning routine before making her way downstairs, where everyone else was still sleeping.

Silently, Anna grabbed an apple from the kitchen and slipped out the front door. Biting into the apple, she looked out over the neighborhood and watched as the sun peeked over the horizon.

After a moment, Anna started down the steps and made her way down her usual route through Alexandria, periodically taking bites of the apple until it was just the core. Twirling it in her hand, Anna glanced at the wall. Without much thought, Anna reeled back and threw the apple core into the air. It skimmed the top of the wall but toppled over to the other side.

"Nice."

Anna whirled around to face the new voice, hand going to the knife on her hip but not drawing it. Standing before her was a tall older man with glasses and an unassuming smile as he held his hands up in surrender.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically. "I'm Reg Monroe," he introduced.

"How many of you are there?" Anna sighed. It seemed she couldn't escape the Monroe's.

"Four," Reg laughed. "And you're Anna," he stated, holding his hand out. "I watched the tapes."

Anna accepted his hand and gave it a firm shake. "I see where Spencer gets his height from – it certainly wasn't Deanna."

He laughed again, his eyes scrunching up as he smiled. Anna decided right then and there that she liked Reg Monroe.

"Are you out for a morning stroll, too?" he asked, gesturing for them to walk.

Anna nodded, and the two started down the road as they fell easily into conversation. Talking to Reg was nothing like talking to Spencer; she didn't feel herself slowly being drained of energy. They spoke about the weather and the benefits of waking up early – not exactly stimulating conversation, but Anna didn't feel pressured to answer a certain way.

"So, have you thought about Deanna's offer?" Reg asked, his hands in his pockets.

She sighed, shaking her head. "I just don't see the point," Anna admitted.

"The point is the future," he said. "There has to be a future, otherwise what are we doing here?"

Anna furrowed her brow. She'd said as much to Jessie just a couple of days ago. How could she let herself forget that? But she remembered Milton from Woodbury, the man who believed in the future. _There has to be an after. There has to be a chance._

"Anyone can do it, though."

"No, not anyone," he insisted. "_You_."

.

Anna walked quickly, her eyes scanning her surroundings in search of a tiny woman with sand colored hair. By the time she made it to the front gate, Anna was sure she'd walked the entirety of Alexandria. As she neared, the gate creaked open for a tan van to pull through before it shut again.

Glenn, Tara, and Noah were the first to exit the vehicle, making their way towards Anna, clearly agitated. Nicholas and a man who resembled Spencer followed close behind.

"You three need new gigs!" the man called. "You're not ready for runs yet."

Anna snorted as she came to a stop.

"Yeah, pretty sure you got that backwards," Glenn sneered, stopping in front of Anna. "That guy—" Glenn began.

"Hey!" the man called. "Hey," he said, patting Glenn on the shoulder. Glenn turned to him, rolling his eyes. "Look, we got a way of doing things around here—"

"You tied up walkers," Glenn interrupted. Anna grimaced.

"It killed our friend," the man defended. "Look, I'm not having this conversation. You obey my orders out there."

"Then we're just as screwed as your last run crew," Glenn huffed.

"Say that again."

"No, back off Aiden," Tara warned.

Anna remembered Reg mentioning his youngest son, Aiden, and his temper.

"Come on," Aiden goaded.

"Come on, man. Just take a step back," Noah instructed.

"Come on, tough guy," Aiden pushed, shoving Glenn back. Anna quickly steadied Glenn and stepped to the side as Aiden got in Glenn's space.

"No one's impressed, man," Glenn said evenly. "Walk away."

"Aiden!" Deanna called as she appeared in the gathering crowd. "What is going on?" She demanded.

"This guy's got a problem with the way we do things," Aiden explained, turning to his mother. "Why did you let these people in?"

"Because we actually know what we're doing out there," Glenn answered.

Aiden whirled around and a fist flew at Glenn's face as Deanna shouted _no_. Glenn ducked under Aiden's fist only to come back up and slam his knuckles against Aiden's nose. Aiden fell to the ground.

Not far off, Nicholas dropped his pack and started toward Glenn. She tensed, ready to step into his path when Daryl came barreling past her and tackled Nicholas to the ground.

"That's enough!" Deanna shouted as Rick and Michonne joined the fray.

Rick went to Daryl, pulling the man off of Nicholas as Aiden scrambled to his feet, poised to attack again. Both Anna and Michonne stepped in the man's way.

"Want to end up on your ass again?" Michonne asked quietly.

Daryl stood, Rick putting himself between Daryl and Nicholas as Daryl paced back and forth, eyes on the curly haired man.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay?" Deanna called. "Rick and his people are part of this community now," she announced. "In all ways – as equals. Understood?" Everyone nodded as she cast a hard gaze over the crowd who nodded before dispersing. "All of you, turn in your weapons, then you two—" she looked to Aiden and Nicholas, "come talk to me."

She turned to Rick as Aiden and Nicholas stormed off. "I told you I had a job for you. I'd like you to be our constable. That's what you were," she said. "That's what you _are_. And you, too," she looked to Michonne. "Will you accept?"

Rick took a moment, "Okay," he relented.

"I'm in," Michonne agreed.

Deanna turned to Glenn. "Thank you."

"For what?" Glenn asked.

"For knocking him on his ass," Deanna smirked.

Glenn nodded and headed off with the others. Anna cast a wary glance at Daryl, who pointedly ignored her as he walked away. Sighing, Anna turned to Deanna.

"And you, have you given any more thought to my offer?"

Anna nodded, "That's why I was looking for you," she explained. "I accept."


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

The house was a blue, single-story, three bedroom with a fenced in backyard. After some debate, it was decided that Anna would take the master while Jessie took the second biggest room. The third room would act as an office.

The siblings didn't have much to take to the house – most of their belongings fit within a backpack each. The furniture, the decor, the books – all of it was already set up, collecting dust. When Anna and Jessie found the photos of the family that had intended to make this house their home, they collected the pictures and hid them away in a box in the attic. They didn't want to think about the concept of living someone else's life.

Alone in her room, Anna plugged her dead iPod into the outlet to the left of her queen-sized bed, before falling into the dark blue armchair in the corner beside the window and dumping her pack on the matching ottoman.

As she sorted through her stuff, Anna tried to ignore the ache in her chest. Daryl was supposed to be with her. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Distantly, she heard a knock at the door, and after a moment Jessie greeting whoever had come calling. Then he yelled her name and, reluctantly, she rose to her feet and made her way to the front of the house.

Standing at the front door was Spencer, holding a box. "Hey Anna," he grinned. "How are you two settling in?"

Anna approached, returning his smile as she took up the space beside her brother.

"It's a nice house," she said. "What's with the box?"

"Oh, my dad wanted to give you these," he said, passing the box over. "He put some empty journals in there, and he found a voice recorder for you," he explained as Anna peered inside at the contents.

"Tell him thank you," she instructed, her smile widening at the gift.

"You can tell him yourself," Spencer corrected. "Mom is throwing a party for you guys tonight. You should come."

"I—uh," Anna stuttered, about to tell him how much parties weren't her thing.

"We'll be there," Jessie interrupted. "Thanks."

"Great, I'll see you then," Spencer said, nodding as he left them.

Anna clenched her jaw as she turned to Jessie and glared at him.

"Why the hell did you say we'd be there?" She demanded.

"Because, we should go," he said, shrugging as he shut the door.

"You can go – _I _don't want to," she hissed, storming off towards her bedroom. He followed after her.

"You can't shut yourself in your room just because you broke up with your old ass boyfriend," Jessie huffed.

"We didn't—" she snapped, whirling around in a fury before pausing to collect herself, her chest heaving. "We didn't _technically_ break up," she insisted. "We're just… I don't know," she muttered, deflating.

Jessie sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I know it may be hard, but you shouldn't shut yourself out. Hell, this is probably a good excuse to get your mind off of it. And besides," he said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, "as the newly appointed Historian, you need to meet the rest of the towns folk."

Anna took a deep breath, seeing that he had a point. She needed to establish a rapport with the people of Alexandria if she was going to have any chance of doing her job. And maybe a party would help put some things into perspective.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll go."

.

.

Daryl listened to the rustling of leaves and the snarling of a single walker as it approached.

"I don't see it," he called back to his companions. "But it's close. There's just one of 'em," he informed as he joined Rick and Carol.

"We won't be here long," Rick assured. "So, what do you think?" he asked, turning to Carol.

"We can go in when it's empty," Carol stated.

"How is that? It's locked up at night," Rick countered

"The window. There's just a latch. I can leave it open," Carol said.

"A latch?" Rick asked, incredulous.

"Yeah," Carol said.

"What if one of those pricks shuts it?" Daryl asked – for whatever reason that he didn't want to admit to, Spencer Monroe's face surfaced in his mind at the mention of said pricks.

"Wait a couple of days, leave it open again," Carol offered.

The walker's snarl sounded again.

"It's getting closer," Daryl huffed.

"We need to do it sooner than later. Right now, they're not watching us. Not worrying about meetings like this," Rick said, hands on his hips. "We may need the guns, we may not."

"We will," Carol insisted. "Whatever way it goes."

"They're the luckiest damn people I ever met," Rick sighed. "And they just keep getting luckier."

"How's that?" Daryl asked.

"We're here now," Rick said.

"They've got a couple of footlockers just full of 9 millimeter autos, Rugers, Kel-Tecs. Just tossed in there," Carol continued. "They don't use them. They're never gonna know they're gone."

"Someone's got one now, right?" Daryl asked, looking to the pile of junk beside the rundown house where Rick had stashed a 9mm in a blender before the group arrived at Alexandria. Said gun had since disappeared.

Rick hummed, irritated by its disappearance. "Listen, the others, we want them to try."

"You, too," Carol said, shooting a look at Daryl.

"So we keep it quiet. Just us," Rick said firmly. "Here it comes," he said, nodding to the walker as it appeared from the woods.

"I got him," Daryl said, lifting his crossbow over his head.

"Hey, wait," Carol called, stepping forward. She shot a few rounds into the walkers torso before finally putting a bullet between its eyes. "We said you were taking me out shooting," she explained as she turned back to the confused men. "I couldn't go back with a full mag."

"Lucky he came by," Daryl said.

"We should get back," Rick declared. "You'll pull the latch; we'll pick our moment. _Us_? We don't need to be lucky," he said as they walked around the junk pile and over to the walker.

Daryl furrowed his brow as he caught sight of something.

"What the hell's that?" he asked, leaning down to move the walkers head. "Is that a W?"

They stared at the _W_ carved in the walkers forehead and turned to each other.

"Let's get back," Rick repeated, his eyes scanning the area for threats.

Carol nodded, and the three started for the gates before Daryl split off.

"Where are you going?" Carol asked after him.

"Huntin'," he said.

"Hey, wait," Carol said, walking over to him. Rick paused not far off – still in ear shot – watching their surroundings. "What's going on between you and Anna?" She asked. "She and Jessie moved into the new house – why weren't you with them?"

"She don't need me," he grunted, not looking at his friend.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Carol pushed. "Did something happen?"

"Don't matter," Daryl replied gruffly, turning and walking away. "I'll be back 'fore dark," he threw over his shoulder, leaving no room for further discussion.

.

It felt good being outside the walls. He didn't feel so trapped. Not quite so lost. Outside, he knew what he was doing, who he was, and what he wanted. It was simple. He could focus on the hunt and not on the way his gut wrenched when he saw Anna walk with that damn pretty boy.

Leaves rustled and Daryl whirled around, his crossbow loaded and ready to fire.

"Come out," he demanded. "Now!"

Aaron came stumbling out of a bush, hands up and a rifle dangling from his shoulder. Daryl lowered his bow.

"You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?" Aaron asked, amazed. "Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn't seem to be an expert at that."

"There ain't much of a difference no more," Daryl grumbled.

"That how you feel about your people?" Aaron asked.

Daryl bristled and took a threatening step towards the man. "Why you followin' me?" he hissed.

"I didn't know I was. I came out to hunt rabbits," Aaron explained. "I know why you're out here," he said. "Mind if I join?"

Daryl glared at the unassuming man with his stupid checkered shirt.

"Keep up," he snapped, turning and walking away. "And keep quiet."

The two continued in silence. Daryl kept his eyes on the trail he'd picked up, but his mind wandered, Anna's words echoing in his head.

"_Or can I say there's an 'us' anymore?"_

He knew he should have said something – at the very least, not walked out like he had. He also knew, however, that if he had said anything their argument would have ended a lot worse than it had. As it stood now, Daryl had no idea what was going on and he couldn't bring himself to find out.

Daryl meant what he said to Carol; Anna didn't need him – she hadn't for a while. She could take care of herself. On this side of those walls, Anna didn't need him, she wanted him. On the inside, though he'd be loath to admit it, Daryl felt like he was being left behind.

Spencer's constant presence didn't really help either.

Daryl's attention was pulled by the nicker of a horse. He and Aaron carefully made their way through the brush until they came upon a clearing. Standing in the tall grass was a solid black horse.

"I've been trying to catch him for months," Aaron said, pulling his pack off his shoulder. "Bring him inside. His name is Buttons."

Daryl furrowed his brow at Aaron.

"One of the kids saw him run by the gate a while back. Thought he looked like a Buttons," he explained. "I haven't seen him for a while. I was afraid it was too late. Every time Eric or I come close, he gets spooked," he said, taking a long coil of rope out of his bag. Daryl took the rope from him. "Have you done this before?"

"My group did. But they weren't out there long," he said, adjusting the rope in his hands, and suddenly he remembered Joe.

"_...ain't nothin' sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he's an indoor cat."_

"The longer they're out there, the more they become what they really are," he said, approaching the horse slowly. "I ain't gonna hurt ya," Daryl said, his voice low. "Alright? Come on, boy. Yeah, just keep on eatin'. Yeah." he clicked his tongue. "Good boy. Yeah, you used to be somebody's, huh?"

_"Or can I say there's an 'us' anymore?"_

"Now you're just yours."

A twig snapped, and the horse reared back as walkers came stumbling out of the trees.

"Shit!" Daryl snapped as the horse ran away. "Come on, they're comin'," he called to Aaron, dropping the rope in favor of his crossbow.

They made quick work of the walkers before Daryl snatched the rope and they took off after Buttons.

.

"You ride horses?" Aaron asked as they pushed their way through the woods.

"I ride bikes," Daryl huffed.

"I take it you don't mean 10-speeds," Aaron muttered. "I know you're feeling like an outsider," he started. Daryl rolled his eyes. "It's not your fault, you know. Eric and I, we're still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We've heard out fair share of well-meaning, but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women," he said. "People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain. They're less scared of me because they know me. It's less and less every day," he assured. "So, let them get to know you. You should go to Deanna's party tonight."

"I got nothin' to prove," Daryl grumbled. "I met a lot of bad people out here doin' a lot of bad shit. They weren't afraid of nothin'."

"Yeah," Aaron sighed. "They were."

Roughly thirty minutes later, Aaron and Daryl came upon a disappointing scene; Buttons struggling to escape a circle of walkers. He was cornered, trapped between the dead and a barbed wire fence with no room to jump.

They watched helplessly as the walkers pulled the horse to the ground and tore into him.

Daryl winced at the way the horse cried out in pain, but there was nothing they could do except end things quickly.

"I got the ones on the right," Daryl said as he pulled his knife from his hip.

The two pulled the walkers off the horse and rammed their blades into their skulls until there were none left. Buttons' breathing was ragged as he tried to lift his head. Aaron approached him, rifle in hand.

"Go on," Daryl said when Aaron hesitated.

Finally, Aaron aimed and pulled the trigger.

.

.

Anna flattened out the skirt of the floral dress she'd found in the back of her closet. The sky was dark out and the party – which was more of a get-together – was in full swing. Anna nursed a glass of bitter wine as she half-listened to Mrs. Neudermeyer carry on about a pasta maker.

Jessie had managed to escape the conversation by joining the others as they gathered in front of the fireplace, laughing and joking about anything more interesting. Sasha had stormed out not long ago, but that hadn't deterred Mrs. Neudermeyer in the slightest. The woman wasn't so much monopolizing Anna's time as she was holding it hostage.

Frustrated, Anna opened her mouth to politely inform Mrs. Neudermeyer that she could not give less of a fuck about a pasta maker. She was cut off, however, when Spencer Monroe appeared at her side.

"Hey, Anna, I need your help with something – sorry Mrs. Neudermeyer, urgent stuff," he said, smiling apologetically at the older woman.

Mrs. Neudermeyer gave a knowing smirk between the two of them before winking at Anna, as if she knew something Anna didn't. Spencer steered Anna away from Mrs. Neudermeyer and led them through the kitchen and out to the back porch.

"Thanks for showing up when you did – any longer and—" she cut herself off, shaking her head.

"It's alright. She's obsessed with getting a pasta maker," Spencer said.

"Did you know there are three-hundred and _fifty_ types of pasta? That's one for every day of the year," Anna said, more than a little sarcastic.

Spencer laughed and Anna took a sip of her wine, chuckling lightly to herself. She glanced around the backyard, noting how they were completely alone. Her thoughts immediately went to Daryl and how he had essentially accused Anna of being romantically involved with the _pretty boy_.

She shook her head, insisting to herself that it wasn't like that. Spencer was just being kind in showing her around Alexandria and making her feel welcome.

Anna suddenly realized that Spencer had said something she hadn't been paying the least bit of attention to. She focused on what he was saying, hoping that she'd catch up in the conversation.

"They'll be back in a few days," he said. "Maybe they'll have a pasta maker."

"I'm sorry, who?" Anna asked, feeling a little bad that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"It's alright. I was just saying the other scavenging group should be back in a few days. Hopefully, they'll have found a pasta maker so Mrs. Neudermeyer can finally stop talking about it," he explained.

Anna sighed, "I have a feeling even after she gets the pasta maker she's going to keep talking about it."

"Well, it's not very interesting around here. When I'm on watch," Spencer said, shaking his head. "I can barely focus, it's so boring."

"I enjoy watch. It's useful and gives me some time to myself," Anna sighed.

"I don't like being alone," Spencer admitted.

"I guess I'm just used to it," Anna muttered as she sipped her wine.

"Maybe you can join me on my shifts sometimes and keep me company," he offered, gently bumping her arm with his elbow.

Anna shrugged, "Maybe," she said, taking another swig of her wine.

"How bad was it out there?" he asked.

Anna pursed her lips. "Compared to in here? It was a nightmare. But, you get used to it – if you can."

"If you can't?"

"You don't make it," she said simply.

A minute of silence passed as Spencer digested her words.

"I'm glad Aaron found you," he finally said, taking a drink of his whiskey.

"Me too," Anna said, smiling as she drank the last of her wine.

She set her empty glass down on the porch railing and sighed. As nice as Spencer was, Anna wanted Daryl standing beside her. She wanted to talk and laugh with him like they used to, for things to go back to the way they were. It seemed that—

There was a pressure on her lips and she froze, her eyes widening in shock as she looked to Spencer's closed lids. Realizing what was happening – that he was kissing her – Anna shoved him away, accidentally knocking her glass off the railing where it shattered against the garden rocks below.

"What the fuck?" She demanded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Her hands curled into fists and her body began to tremble with rage.

"I just—"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't_ ever_ do that again." Her voice came out like a hiss.

"Anna, I—"

Certain that no matter what Spencer said she would break his nose, Anna turned on her heel before he could finish and stormed off the porch and out of the backyard.

.

.

Daryl stood on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets as he watched the party carry on through the glowing windows. He could hear the music and the laughter.

He knew Anna was there, and he knew she'd worn a pretty floral dress with her combat boots and her hair in waves around her shoulders. Seeing her like that had prompted him to shower and put on a clean, black button up. But now that he was standing there, about to face her, and he couldn't do it.

With a last glance at the house, Daryl turned and headed back to Carol's house, where he was sleeping on the couch. He couldn't help but think bitterly that if it weren't for Spencer, he'd have moved into the house with Anna. But he couldn't blame everything on him.

"Daryl."

He looked to the origin of the voice and found Aaron standing on his front porch, waving at him.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Thought you were goin' to that party over there," Daryl said accusingly.

"Oh, I was never going to go 'cause of Eric's ankle, thank God," Aaron laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Why the hell did you tell me to go, then?" Daryl demanded.

"I said try," Aaron corrected. "You did. It's a thought that counts thing."

"Alright," Daryl grumbled, starting towards Carol's again.

"Hey," Aaron called, making him pause again. "Come in. Have some dinner."

Daryl grimaced, preparing some way to tell Aaron politely that he'd rather not.

"Come on, man," Aaron insisted. "It's some pretty serious spaghetti."

Daryl stomach twisted at the mention of spaghetti and suddenly he was walking across the street and up the front steps of Aaron's house. Aaron laughed and directed him inside, where he found Eric sitting at the dining table, set for three.

"You knew I'd say yes?" Daryl asked.

"I hoped," Aaron said.

They sat down around the table and Eric dished out a plate of spaghetti. The second the plate hit the table, Daryl snatched up his fork and shoveled the food into his mouth, slurping up the noodles that hadn't quite made it.

He glanced up to find Aaron and Eric smiling between him and each other as they ate their meals slowly.

"Thanks," Daryl grunted, setting his fork down and wiping his face on the cloth napkin.

"Oh," Eric gasped. "When you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs. Neudermeyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it," he laughed. "I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something. I really think she just wants something to talk about, so if you see one out on your travels, it would go a long way to…" he trailed off, noticing Daryl's confusion and Aaron looking at him. "I thought it was done," Eric said apologetically. "You didn't ask him already?"

"Ask me what?" Daryl said, looking to Aaron.

With a sigh, Aaron rose to his feet and gestured for Daryl to follow him. The two men went out into the garage, where Daryl found a plethora of motorcycle parts and an unfinished bike under a tarp.

"When I got the place, there was that frame and some parts and equipment," Aaron explained as Daryl wandered over to the table of parts. "Whoever lived here built them."

"It's a lot of parts for one bike," Daryl observed.

"Whenever I came across any parts out there, I brought them back. I didn't know what I'd need. I always thought I'd learn how to do it," Aaron said. "But, I get the feeling you already know what to do with it."

Daryl nodded, turning to peek under the tarp. It was nothing like his brother's, but he'd worked on all kinds of bikes and cars doing the odd job for money before the turn.

"And the thing is, you're gonna need a bike," Aaron said.

"Why?"

"I told Deanna not to give you a job because I think I have one for you," Aaron admitted. Daryl looked to him. "I'd like you to be Alexandria's other recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore."

"You want me riskin' mine, right?" Daryl asked, his mind conjuring up an image of Anna standing in the car port of the prison, watching him leave on a run, ordering him to return.

"Yeah, because you know what you're doing," Aaron insisted, stepping forward. "You're good out there. But you don't belong out there."

Daryl furrowed his brow at the assertion. Out there was the only place he'd ever felt he'd belonged. Out there with the others. With Anna.

"I know it's hard getting used to people getting used to you. And I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes. So do I. But the main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you _do_ know the difference between a good person and a bad person," Aaron finished his speech and awaited Daryl's response.

He wondered what Anna would do if he agreed to be Alexandria's second recruiter, if she would see him off when he left. If she would want him to come back.

"I got nothing else to do," Daryl finally said, shrugging.

Aaron nodded and turned to head back inside.

"Thanks," Daryl said, causing Aaron to turn.

"Yeah," Aaron said, smiling.

"I'll get you some rabbits," Daryl offered.

Aaron laughed. "Great."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

Anna fidgeted with her dead iPod and chewed on her bottom lip as she sat on the edge of her bed. staring out the window. She could see Spencer standing on the sidewalk, seeming to fight with himself on whether or not he should knock on the door.

With a frustrated sigh, Anna set the iPod down on the nightstand, got to her feet, and left her room, finding Jessie in the kitchen hunched over a bowl of dry cereal.

"He's been standing out there for five minutes," Jessie said through a mouthful of Frosted Flakes.

"I know," Anna huffed, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the sink. "I wish he'd just go away."

"What happened last night? You disappeared in the middle of the party," Jessie asked, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"Spencer kissed me," she stated flatly, glaring out the front window where she could still see the man.

Jessie choked and coughed. "He what?"

"I almost broke his nose," Anna said, suddenly wishing she had – maybe then Spencer wouldn't be marching up to the front door.

There were four, hard knocks and the siblings looked to each other, Anna more than a little exasperated. When Jessie made no move to get the door, Anna sighed heavily and pulled it open.

"Hey, Anna," Spencer said sheepishly. "Look I just wanted to—"

"Are you here for an interview?" She asked, immediately regretting giving him a way in.

"Interview?" Spencer asked, incredulous.

"If you're not here to be interviewed, I need you to leave," Anna said, going to shut the door when Spencer threw his hand out to catch it.

"Look, if that's what it'll take for you to talk to me, than fine," Spencer said. "I'm here for an interview.

Anna clenched her jaw and turned on her heel, leaving the door open for Spencer to walk through. She led him to the office, where she sat down behind the mahogany desk, her back to the wall. In front of the desk were two chairs. Spencer sat down in one.

She pulled the voice recorder out of the top right drawer and set it down on the desk between them before pulling out a notepad and a pen. With the press of a button, the recorder turned on and the interview began.

"How long have you been in Alexandria?" She asked, getting straight to the point.

"Since before the walls went up. Look, Anna—"

"You helped put the walls up with your dad, right?"

"Yes. Anna—"

"What do you do in Alexandria? What's your job?" She pushed on, ignoring him.

"I watch the wall for roamers and looters," he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Roamers is what you call the dead?" He nodded. "Please answer verbally for the voice recording," she instructed.

"Yes, that's what we call the dead," he said, clearly irritated.

Sitting up suddenly, he reached out and turned the recorder off.

"Can you let me apologize?" He asked, his voice raised. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"I don't care," Anna said through clenched teeth. "This interview is over, please see yourself out." She got to her feet and headed for the open door of the office when Spencer grabbed her hand to stop her.

Before he could say anything, Anna yanked her hand from his and grabbed his wrist, twisting it around and pulling it up his back in a vice-like grip.

"Do not _ever_ think you can touch me," she hissed. "You got off easy last night."

After another moment, Anna released his arm and took a step back. He whirled around to look at her, his eyes wide and face pale. With a blank expression, Anna gestured for him to leave. He said nothing as he hurried out.

Her body didn't relax until she heard the front door open and shut. Her heart was still pounding against her chest as she braced herself against the solid desk. She took deep, even breaths as she counted the veins in the wood. She tightened her grip on the desk, willing herself not to reach for her thigh.

"Anna? What happened?" Jessie asked, his voice sounding distant. "Anna?" He asked again, his voice clearer this time.

Anna shook her head and stood straight, taking another deep breath. "He grabbed me, I… reacted," she said, unsure of how to explain herself. But it was just that – a reaction.

She could count on one hand the people who were allowed to grab her without warning and avoid the treatment Spencer had received.

"Grabbed you how?" Jessie asked.

"Does it matter? He shouldn't be grabbing me in the first place," she insisted, shaking her head.

"Of course he shouldn't, but maybe you over-react—"

"Over-reacted?" Anna scoffed. "You think I was over-reacting when someone I've only known for a couple of days grabs me when we're alone? Do you think I over-reacted when he came on to me? Kissed me?"

"No," Jessie said quickly. "But—"

Anna turned around and gathered her voice recorder, pad of paper and pen, and shoved them into a satchel set on the floor beside the desk. Slinging it over her shoulder, she pushed past Jessie.

"Where are you going?" Jessie asked, following after her.

"I've got work to do," she snapped, yanking the front door open and shutting it behind her as she left the house.

.

The next day, Anna found Jessie at the kitchen island hunched over another bowl of dry cereal. She took a cup out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the sink. After taking a long swig, she set the glass down on the granite counter.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Jessie said before she could say anything. "You were right, it doesn't matter how he grabbed you – he shouldn't have done it all."

"It's fine, Jess," she sighed.

"It's really not," he said. "But, at least he gets it now. I hope."

"I hope so, too," Anna muttered.

She quickly drank the rest of the water and grabbed her satchel from where she had left it hanging beside the front door.

"Off to work?" Jessie asked as she slung it over her shoulder and opened the door.

"I have a meeting with Reg," she said as she turned to shut the door. "You've got stuff to do, too, Mr. Engineer."

He waved her off and she shut the door, a smile on her face. It didn't take her long to make it to the little terrace where she had agreed to meet with Reg, arriving at the same time as the older man.

They smiled to each other and sat down on the bench. As Anna pulled out her voice recorder, Reg pulled out a journal and opened it to the first page.

"So, I guess we start at the beginning," he said, his eyes scanning over his handwriting.

"I guess so," Anna agreed, hitting the record button. "So, you designed the wall and put it up with your sons, Spencer and Aiden," she started, setting the recorder down on the bench between them.

"That is correct," Reg said, explaining how he had been a professor of architecture before the turn and how they had taken the paneling and steel beams from the abandoned construction site of a shopping mall.

Anna went on to ask about how they had found Alexandria and its early days, when the other residents had arrived, and how they had decided on a system of governing. Reg praised Deanna for her leadership and the others for their willingness to participate. The interview carried on until they eventually reached the time Aaron found Anna and the others in the barn. Feeling that they were all caught up, she decided to conclude the interview.

"How are you liking the job?" Reg asked, closing and wrapping his journal before tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

"It's… interesting," Anna said after a moment.

"I'm curious, how do you find the time to interview people when you've got so much to write about already?"

"You lost me," Anna said, furrowing her brow at her companion.

"Well, your group has been through so much," he explained.

Anna shook her head, "My job is to record Alexandria's history."

"You're a part of Alexandria, aren't you?" Reg countered. "The things you've been through – that led you to this moment – they're just as important as what led me here," he insisted.

Anna openly grimaced.

"Just think about it," he said, patting her on the shoulder as he got to his feet. "Let me know what you decide," he called over his shoulder as he walked away, hands in his pockets like he hadn't a care in the world.

Anna watched him go, then sighed heavily when she grabbed her recorder and realized she hadn't turned it off. She clicked the button and the little red light blinked off. Seeing that she still had about five hours of recording space on it, she stuffed it into the satchel and stood, stepping off the terrace.

She started for her house, ready to transcribe her meeting with Reg, when she spotted a figure sitting by the pond. Noah sat in the grass, holding his knees as he stared out at the calm waters.

Realizing that she hadn't spoken to him much since he joined the group, Anna walked over. She cast a shadow over him, causing him to squint up at her.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he responded.

"Mind if I sit?" She asked, only for him to shrug. With a groan, she took a seat next to him, sitting cross-legged as she picked at the grass. "You doing okay?" She asked after a long silence.

"Yeah," he said quickly.

She cocked a brow at him. "You don't have to be," she assured. "It's okay if you're not okay."

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No," she said simply. He looked to her and she took a deep breath. "I'm sad and confused and I wish people that aren't here were," she admitted.

"Me too," Noah whispered. "My dad would've liked this place. Beth would've."

"Yeah."

"Tyreese," he continued, his voice strained. "It's my fault they're dead."

"No," she said firmly. "It wasn't your fault. Shit happens – shit _happened_. Shit you didn't have any control over." She sighed. "No one blames you for what happened to them. But that doesn't matter because you blame yourself."

Noah nodded.

"You've got to understand something, though, Noah," she said as they stared out over the pond. "You can feel guilty for the rest of your life, but it doesn't help anything," she explained carefully. "You live, Noah. You keep going, you do _better_, you make sure that their deaths weren't for nothing."

An idea came to her and she reached into her satchel, pulling the voice recorder out.

"We remember the people we've lost through the stories we tell of them. One day – hopefully very far in the future when you're old and have lived a full life – you'll die," Anna said as she showed him the recorder. "When that day comes, I want you to be remembered. Will you tell me your story?"

Noah looked between the recorder and Anna, seeming to consider what she was asking of him. Finally, he nodded. Anna smiled and hit the record button. For the next hour or so, Anna listened attentively as Noah told her about his life before and after the turn, about his time at Grady, about Beth and Tyreese.

Anna decided Reg was right.

.

The next day was much the same. Anna visited with a few people; Aiden, Deanna, Olivia; and interviewed them. She even took the time to apologize to Olivia for making her feel awkward when they first met.

Now, she was headed to her last meeting of the day with Aaron and Eric. She hummed to herself as she walked down the sidewalk, double checking the contents of her satchel to make sure she had everything. As she neared the house, the front porch covered in signs, she noticed the garage door open and a certain Daryl Dixon inside, hunched over a motorcycle.

Anna hesitated at the end of the driveway. She hadn't seen him in four days, since their _disagreement_. He went to wipe his hands on a dirty cloth when he looked up at her, and a tremor went up her spine and her throat went dry. She'd tried her best to give him space and keep herself occupied. She hadn't expected the overwhelming desire to disappear now that they were looking at each other.

"Anna, hey," Aaron called from the smaller garage door, one hand raised in greeting.

It was like she had been knocked out of some kind of paralyzing spell with Aaron's interruption. She waved back at him and made her way up the driveway. She maneuvered around the bike, careful not to look at Daryl again – afraid of what she might see there – and stood in front of Aaron.

"Good to see you," Aaron grinned. "Come on in, are you thirsty?" He asked, stepping aside so that she could walk through the door.

"I wouldn't say no to a glass of water," Anna said as she cleared her throat.

"No problem," Aaron said before turning back to Daryl. "Daryl, you thirsty?"

"Nah, I'm good," he grunted, not looking away from the bike.

"Alright. Help yourself if you change your mind," Aaron said, shutting the door. "If you want to set up in the living room, I'll grab that water."

Anna nodded and found her way to the living room where Eric was laid out on the couch, a book in his lap and his ankle elevated on a stack of pillows.

"Hello there," Eric greeted. "Sit anywhere you like."

Anna smiled and sat in an armchair. "How's your ankle feeling?" She asked, digging out her voice recorder.

"Oh, you know – hurts like hell," he sighed. "Pete says it should be good in a few more weeks."

"I bet you're excited to get back on your feet," Anna said, remembering how much she hated being stuck in bed in her early days at Fort Benning. She'd just been too sick to do more than walk to the bathroom on her own.

"Yeah, but it's kind of nice having Aaron dote on me," Eric laughed.

"Here you go, Anna," Aaron said as he entered the room with a tray of water filled glasses.

He set the tray on the coffee table and passed her a glass. She thanked him and took a long swig as he took a seat in the other armchair.

Anna set the glass down on the table beside her on one of the available coasters before looking to Aaron.

"Before we get started," she began, suddenly feeling unsure, "we haven't talked a whole lot since you first brought us here. I just wanted to thank you for believing in us." Anna could feel her face heating, and she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap.

"You're welcome," Aaron said, his voice soft and reassuring. "I'm glad you all agreed to join us."

"Me too," Anna muttered. "Anyway," she said, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "Is it okay if I record this?" she asked, showing them the voice recorder.

They both nodded, and she set the device on the coffee table.

"I've decided to start before the turn. To see how much people have changed since this whole thing began. What were your lives like, what did you do? Then, we'll move on to how you survived, the things you went through, how you wound up in Alexandria," Anna explained before pressing the record button, a little red light blinking on.

"Well, Aaron and I actually met before the turn, when we worked for an NGO," Eric started. "We moved in together, dealt with a lot of bullshit from people. But, we were happy. We _are_ happy – given the circumstances."

Aaron chuckled and Anna smiled. The two went on, recounting how they had made it out of the city and found Alexandria around the time the walls went up, filling in where the other missed a detail. Finally, they came to the present, and Eric retold the story of how he had gotten injured, thanking Anna again for saving him.

"Yes, thank you," Aaron agreed. "I'm just glad Eric isn't going out there anymore."

Eric rolled his eyes.

"You're going out there alone now?" Anna asked, concerned.

"No," Aaron said, shaking his head. "Daryl's agreed to be the second recruiter."

Anna's whole body went cold.

"Has he?" She asked, reaching for her voice recorder. She hit the button and the red light turned off.

"I think he'll do great out there. We're leaving tomorrow for a few weeks," Aaron went on as she placed the recorder in her satchel.

"Did you get everything you needed?" Eric asked.

"Yes, thank you so much for your time," Anna said, slinging her satchel over her shoulder and standing. "I'll get out of your hair. I'm sure you've got a lot of prep to do before leaving."

Aaron walked her back to the garage, bidding her a good rest of her day before shutting the door behind her. She worked her jaw as she stared at the ground, listening to Daryl continue working on the bike.

"So, you're the new recruiter?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Yeah," Daryl muttered.

"Were you going to tell me?"

He said nothing.

Anna took a deep breath. "I'm going to speak. You don't have to say anything – I'd prefer it if you didn't," she started, her right hand reaching for her thigh as her nerves started to get the better of her. She made the conscious effort to withdraw her hand. "I don't know what's going on between us. If there's still an us – we didn't decide anything. But I know what I want, and how I feel."

She brought her eyes up to look at Daryl and found him staring at the bike.

"I love you." She saw his shoulders tense and she sighed. "You need to figure out what you want, Daryl. When you do, let me know."

Having said everything she needed to say, Anna walked out of the garage and down the driveway, hoping Daryl would call out to her, tell her that he knew what he wanted, that he loved her too.

But he said nothing, and she kept walking.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

She took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth, steadying the rifle against her shoulder as she peered down the sights. The deer stood, grazing peacefully, completely oblivious to her presence.

Anna settled her finger over the trigger, ready to fire, when the sound of rustling leaves caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, angling her ear toward the sound. It was a steady approach as opposed to the stumbling of a walker. A human. She tensed and whirled around, forgetting the deer.

The barrel of her rifle pointed in the face of Spencer, his hands raised in surrender, face pale and eyes wide.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" She demanded through clenched teeth, not bothering to lower her weapon.

"Can you put the gun down first?" He asked, a tremble in his voice.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" she asked again, dropping her rifle to her side.

"I saw you going out alone. I wanted to make sure you were alright—"

"How heroic," Anna sneered, turning on her heel to find the deer was now gone. "Damn it," she hissed, starting towards the area she'd last seen it.

"Go home, Spencer. I'm fine," she called over her shoulder.

"Are you going to make me?" Spencer challenged as Anna crouched in the clearing.

She scanned the ground for tracks. "I could always shoot you," she said, off-handedly.

There was a pause. "You wouldn't do that," Spencer said, laughing uneasily.

"You don't sound so sure," Anna said as she found what she was looking for.

She stood and started off towards the East. After a moment, she heard Spencer following after her. Irritated, she stopped and turned to him.

"You're right, I can't stop you from being out here," she snapped. "But the least you could do is be quiet."

"Sorry," he said.

Anna turned back to her hunt, silently pushing her way through the brush, only for Spencer to follow her with noise.

"How are you so quiet?" he asked.

"For starters, by shutting the fuck up," she groused. "You need to step lightly and be careful of where you put your foot down," she explained. "For instance, don't step on that twig," she said, referring to the twig she had just stepped around that she didn't doubt Spencer was about to step on.

"Right," Spencer said. "Where did you learn to hunt?"

"What happened to shutting the fuck up?"

"I was just curious."

"Daryl taught me, now be quiet."

"He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that just goes around teaching people how to do stuff," Spencer said. "Why'd he teach you?"

"_Hey, Daryl?" Anna called, looking up from Milton's journal about the gladiator arena of Woodbury._

_She was laid out on the bottom bunk while Daryl sat on the ground making new arrows for his crossbow._

_He hummed to indicate that he had heard her._

"_You ever teach someone to hunt before?" She asked, thumbing through the journal._

"_Nah," Daryl grunted as he moved on to the next soon-to-be arrow._

"_Would you, maybe, teach me?" She asked, her voice a nervous mumble._

_Daryl stilled in his work and turned his torso to look at her. "You wanna learn to hunt?"_

_Setting the journal aside, Anna sat up. "I'm a good shot, I know how to move quietly – I wouldn't be hard to teach," she insisted._

"_You'd have to listen and do everything I say," Daryl said firmly._

"_Like a Dom/Sub situation, got it."_

"_No," he huffed, and she didn't miss the redness in his cheeks. "Like a Teacher/Student thing,"_

"_Same thing,"_

"I asked him to," Anna finally said. "Now shut up."

She was starting to contemplate how irresponsible it would be to knock him out and leave him, but she decided he'd probably get eaten by walkers and she didn't want to add any more blood on her conscious. Her eye caught movement, and she raised her rifle.

"I just don't see—"

Anna whirled around, slamming Spencer against the tree, her hand over his mouth. She peered around the tree to count the walkers shambling by just a few feet away. There were twelve. She looked around, in case there were any more that might see them.

Looking back at Spencer, Anna leveled him with a hard glare.

"There are a lot of walkers," she whispered. "I'm going to remove my hand and you are going to be silent."

His eyes went wide and he nodded. She moved her hand away from his mouth and returned to surveying the pack of walkers.

"There's too many for us to handle," Spencer whispered beside her as he looked around the tree as well.

Anna shoved him back, hiding herself behind a bush when one of the walkers tilted its head toward them. She put a finger to her lips and glared at Spencer and he pressed his mouth into a straight line.

_How is this asshole still alive?_ She asked herself.

Peeking through the leaves, the walkers continued on, oblivious to their presence. Anna let out a low sigh of relief, bowing her head.

"Shit!"

Anna's head snapped up and she stared wildly at Spencer as he grappled with a walker. She jumped up and tore her knife from its sheath, plunging the blade into the walker's ear before ripping it back out.

"Thanks," Spencer panted.

Anna said nothing as she spun around to see the twelve walkers had turned and were now heading towards them.

"We've got enough ammo," Anna said, breathing heavily as she mentally counted how many bullets they had between them.

"No we don't," Spencer said, drawing her attention to another pack of roamers heading for them.

"Alright, then we run," she stated before taking off East.

She could hear Spencer's long legs carrying him after her, easily catching up. She forced herself to take even breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to keep the ache in her chest and throat at bay as they ran.

"Why are we going East? Alexandria is the other way," Spencer shouted.

"Don't – want – to – bring them – back," Anna huffed, breathless as she leapt over a fallen tree.

Frantic, Anna scanned their ever-changing surroundings as they ran, searching for a place to hide.

_"This ain't a sprint, Wycoff – when you're runnin' from the dead, it's a marathon," Drill Sergeant barked. "Pace yourself. The dead don't get winded – you do."_

Anna slowed her sprinting to a slower pace until she came to a stop.

"Did we lose them?" Spencer asked as he halted beside her.

She tried to suck air into her lungs, but it was like someone had taken all of the air from the atmosphere. Panic was inching its way through her, making it harder to breath. She clasped her hands behind her head to try and open up her lungs as she looked behind them.

The walkers were out of sight, but she didn't know for how long.

"How many," she wheezed. "How many were in the second group?" she asked, hardly able to speak.

"Anna, are you okay?" Spencer asked, his hand hovering over her shoulder.

"Did you see," she took a deep ragged breath, "how many walkers?"

"I don't know, like twenty in the second group," Spencer said, shaking his head. "Anna, what's wrong?"

"Thirty-two," she said, her voice strained. She glanced at Spencer's rifle. "Any other weapons?" She asked.

"Just this rifle and a knife."

Anna cursed herself; she had only brought the same. Spencer's rifle only carried ten in its mag while the Vanguard rifle she checked out from Alexandria was loaded with five .223's. She knew she had enough ammo in her pack to take out the walkers from high ground. She just needed to _find_ high ground.

"Fuck," she groaned, hearing the walkers snarling as they caught up to the two.

"We need to keep moving, there's a house – it's not far," Spencer said, starting off North-West.

Anna followed him, wishing she still had an inhaler. She was lightheaded, and she just wanted to sit down and breath. But Drill Sergeant's voice kept echoing in her head.

_"We don't give up."_

By the time they made it to the white paneled house with a pile of junk, Anna was seeing black spots in her vision and ready to collapse.

"Let's get inside," Spencer said, leading the way.

There was more garbage inside. She tripped over a bin and fell towards the ground, too weak to catch herself. Spencer jumped forward and caught her. He held her with one arm as his other reached out to right a chair. He guided her to the chair and sat her down, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"What's going on?" He asked, seeming out of breath himself.

"Asthma," she said, bringing her hands up behind her head. "I just need a minute."

"Asthma?" Spencer asked, incredulous. "Do you have an inhaler?"

She shook her head.

"Shit," Spencer said, straightening, one hand on his hip, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be fine," she assured through her labored breathing. "Just – I don't know – keep watch," she instructed, waving at the door.

Spencer did as she said – a miracle if Anna ever saw one – and left Anna to her breathing exercises. As her heart rate slowed and her breathing evened out, Anna dropped her hands and rubbed her aching thighs.

"Anything?" She asked.

"I think we're clear," Spencer said, turning away from the door. "How do you not have an inhaler?"

Anna rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and checked over her rifle. "They get used up, lost, expired," she explained.

Shrugging off her pack and rummaging through it, Anna pulled out the box of ammo. She poured ten bullets into her hand and stuffed them in the pockets of her jacket.

"So, Daryl teach you how to twist arms too?"

"No," she said, zipping her pack closed and slinging it back on. "I learned that from the army."

"You were in the army?" Spencer asked.

"No."

"I'm confused," Spencer sighed.

"I was with Fort Benning for a few months sometime after everything went down," she explained. "But, they weren't really the army anymore."

"How'd you end up with your group?"

"I was with them towards the beginning – before Fort Benning – we got separated and eventually found each other again," Anna sighed.

"That's pretty amazing," Spencer said.

"Alright, now that story time is over," Anna said, feeling a little awkward. "We should circle around and make our way back to Alexandria – we should have led the walkers away enough." From her reckoning, it was a straight shot North-East to the community.

"What if we run into that herd? I don't think it's a good idea for you to do anymore running," Spencer insisted.

Anna rolled her eyes. "You can stay here if you want, I'm going," she said, holding her rifle ready and pointed at the ground as she made her way to the door. She could hear Spencer sigh heavily as she stepped outside, only to whirl around and run back in. "Great," she hissed.

"What?"

"They've caught up – we wasted too much time," she said, dropping her pack to the ground and opening it. "We're going to have to make a stand here," she said, pulling out the box of ammo and setting it on the ground in front of one of the windows facing East – the direction the herd of walkers were now appearing from.

"We can just lay low and wait for them to pass," Spencer said, dropping into a crouch.

"They probably saw me," Anna grumbled. "Either way, we need to be ready to fight. I want you covering the door, I'll get them as they're coming."

"They could walk right past us," Spencer insisted.

"They could. They could not. We need to be ready if they don't," Anna bit out. "Just do as I tell you and you'll make it out of this alive."

She saw the Adam's apple of Spencer's throat bob as he swallowed hard and nodded. She set her rifle up against the window, the barrel poking out as she watched the herd shamble by. At least three had passed them before the fourth one headed for the house.

"We got one coming," Anna whispered. "Be ready – it's already attracting the others," she said, watching as the herd slowly turned towards them.

The fourth walker stumbled through the door and Spencer fired, the shot ringing out with a deafening _BANG._ Anna squeezed the trigger, dropping the nearest walker from the window, before she pulled back on the bolt and fired again and again until she need to reload.

"Reloading!"

She dug five bullets from her pocket and loaded them into her rifle, pulled back on the bolt and started again. This continued until Spencer ran out of bullets in his own rifle. She pulled her sidearm and pulled him behind her, firing into the faces of the walkers.

There had been roughly thirty-two in the herd, and she counted the gunshots in her head. There had to be only twelve left. Maybe less. Maybe more. Her heart pounded at the uncertainty.

Her finger hardly let up on the trigger until it clicked and she was out of bullets, facing three more walkers.

"I've almost got it," Spencer shouted as she threw her gun to the ground and shoved the nearest walker into the next before pulling out her knife.

She plunged the blade into the first walker as it started towards her again, dropping it to the ground as she pulled her knife out again. She ducked the second walker's arms and stabbed the next walker through the eye, the hilt getting stuck in the socket.

Abandoning her knife, she turned to the third walker and kicked its feet out from under it, letting it slam against the floor before she stomped the heel of her boot into its head repeatedly.

Panting, she straightened and stood back to admire her work when she looked up to find Spencer staring at her, mouth agape and eyes wide.

After a moment, he got to his feet, dusting off his jeans and clearing his throat, avoiding her eyes as he looked around at the carnage.

"You, uh…" he trailed off before he finally looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "You really didn't need me here."

"Are you just now figuring that out?" She asked. "Look, I get it – you thought you'd come out here, be my knight in shining armor. But, I don't _need_ that. I don't _want _that."

He said nothing and she sighed.

"Let's head back," she said, grabbing the box of ammo and her gun, leading the way out of the house.

.

They made it back to Alexandria without incident or conversation. Spencer seemed lost in thought as they approached, and Anna was more than happy about the silence. She did, however, feel irritated that she hadn't caught the deer.

As they neared the front gate, she saw that it was open. A dirty white van was parked just inside, and Tara was being carried out by two Alexandrians, unconscious. Anna took off running.

"What happened?" She demanded as she scanned Tara's injuries.

"There was a grenade," Eugene muttered, trembling and following after Tara as she was carried to the infirmary.

"Glenn? Noah?" Anna called, looking for the two in question. Glenn stepped around the van; the expression on his face was grim.

"Noah… he didn't make it," he said, his voice low as he shot a quick glance at Nicholas.

"Aiden?" Spencer asked, coming up beside Anna.

"Spencer, I—" Nicholas stammered.

"I'm sorry," Glenn finished, shaking his head.

Anna looked to Spencer, saw the broken look on his face.

"Spencer—"

"I need to tell my parents," he said, his voice vacant as, in a daze, he walked away and down the road.

Anna watched him go for a moment before turning to Glenn and Nicholas.

"What happened?"

"I need to go talk to Deanna," Nicholas muttered, ignoring her.

"Come on, we need to tell the others about Noah," Glenn said, gesturing for her to follow him as another Alexandrian hopped into the van and drove it away. Anna followed him in silence.

.

Anna tapped her pen against the paper, unsure of what she was supposed to say. Two files lay open in front of her – one for Noah and one for Aiden. They were the stories of the two young men that she hadn't expected to end so soon.

She shook her head – there was no life expectancy anymore. "_The moment you set foot on the other side of that fence you are presumed dead. Killed in action."_ Why had she allowed herself to forget that?

She looked at the number _545_ scribbled on a yellow sticky note, stuck to the lamp. Reg had kept a journal since the turn, keeping track of the days.

Clicking her pen, she wrote out in both files _Day of death after outbreak: 545._ Starting with Aiden, Anna detailed his death as matter of fact as she could. She knew it would be hard to do the same for Noah. She knew Noah better than Aiden, and she was still angry and uneasy about the conversation with Glenn and Rick.

_"All he had to do was hold the door," Glenn said, squeezing his hands together. "But, Nicholas, he panicked. Noah," he cleared his throat, his eyes watering. "I had him. I had his hand. I tired." His voice cracked. "I watched him die."_

_Anna stopped the recording and took deep, steady breaths. She and Rick were sitting on the front porch with Glenn as he recounted the events of the run._

_"I could have left him out there," Glenn muttered. "Could've told a story." He looked up at Rick, who tilted his head. "What, you think I should have?" he asked._

_"They don't know what they're doing. Any of them," Rick said, dodging the question._

_"We'll show them," Glenn insisted._

_"I don't know if they can see it," Rick said, looking between Glenn and Anna. "How things really are. I don't know if they can yet. They haven't caught up."_

_"We have to be here," Glenn said firmly. "We have to."_

_"Yeah, we do," Rick agreed. "But their rules," he shook his head, "we don't answer to them."_

_"We are them, Rick," Anna said, furrowing her brow._

_"Noah, he believed in this place," Glenn said. "I'm telling you, we gotta make this work."_

Anna ran her hands down her face and groaned. Finished with Aiden's file, she started on Noah's, trying to carry over the matter-of-fact tone. _Day of death after outbreak: 545_. She wondered if someone would write her death, or if she would die and fade in the memories of the people who survived her.

_"I want you to be remembered."_ That's what she had said to Noah. That's what she intended to do. To remember him.

Distantly, she heard a knock at the front door. She quickly finished her sentence and got to her feet, rushing out of the office to open the door. Standing there, an unopened bottle of whiskey in one hand, was Spencer.

She thought about turning him away, sending him back home, but his red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks had her stepping aside and letting him in.

"No one should drink alone," Spencer said as he took a seat on the soft blue couch in the living room.

Anna went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of tumblers, wondering if she should wake Jessie and have him join them. She decided against it and sat down beside Spencer, handing him one of the glasses. He poured the whiskey and she took a small sip.

"Why'd you come here, Spencer?" Anna asked after a moment, trying to keep her tone gentle.

"Didn't want to be at home," he shrugged. "It's too _sad_ there."

"You're going to have to face it eventually," Anna said, taking another sip on her whiskey.

"I know," he muttered. "Just… not yet."

Anna breathed deeply and sat back against the couch, periodically sipping on her whiskey until it was gone. Spencer offered to refill her glass, but she declined, and the two sat in silence, holding empty glasses.

"Why don't you like me?" Spencer asked.

"I don't think—"

"Please, just humor me," he pleaded.

"I liked you well enough before, Spencer. You were nice."

"And then I kissed you," he said.

"And then you kissed me," she nodded.

"So, you don't like me because you think I came on too strong?" He asked.

"I _think_? Spencer, you'd only known me for three days before you kissed me," Anna huffed. "Look," she said, trying to calm herself. "I can be your friend. I can't be anything else."

"Why not?"

"Why do you _want_ there to be anything else?" She asked.

"Because you're strong and beautiful and smart and kind and I like you," Spencer listed off. "I like you, Anna. I want to try for something here." He leaned toward her, his eyes on her lips, and she pushed him back.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said.

"I'm not," Spencer said, taking her hand in his. "Can't you try?"

"No."

"Please."

"I love Daryl."

Spencer pulled back, staring at her, confused. "What?"

"Daryl. I love him. He and I have been together for about two years – it's complicated right now, but I love him," she explained, looking away from him to set her glass on the coffee table.

"How? He's so… scary," Spencer asked.

"He's a good man," Anna asserted.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Spencer asked, seeming to get irritated.

"I shouldn't have to belong to another person for you to take 'no' for an answer," Anna snapped. "I told you 'no' and that should have been good enough."

Spencer looked away, his jaw ticking. "You said it was complicated?"

"That doesn't change anything," Anna said, shaking her head.

"Except it does," he said, standing. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey. "When you see that, you know where to find me."

Anna watched him walk to the door, her brows knitted together in confusion and irritation. She shook her head and put her face in her hands.

"Fucking hell," she groaned.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Anna knocked her knuckles against the door before she could decide against it. She tried to hold onto her slowly fading nerves as she listened to the approaching footsteps on the other side of the door. Reg pulled the sheer white curtain aside to see her before he pulled the door open.

"Anna, hi," he greeted as he stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind him. "Did you need something?"

"I just—I wanted to… I'm not really sure," she sighed.

Reg smiled sadly at her and gestured for her to follow him to the front steps. They sat beside each other.

"Noah was a good kid," Reg said after a moment.

"He was," Anna agreed, nodding. "I'm sorry about Aiden."

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered. "I wish I could have said goodbye."

"I know," she said. "When my brother and I found our parents…," she shook her head. "I wish I could hear their voices – just one more time."

Reg nodded along, a tear slipping out of the corner of his eye before he wiped it away. "It isn't fair, how things are – but that's how it is."

"That's how it is," she agreed.

Anna twisted around and rifled through her satchel, producing a CD case. She passed it to Reg and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

"What's this?" Reg asked.

"Before Aiden left I interviewed him," she explained. "I burned the audio onto the CD, for you and Deanna and Spencer."

Reg turned the CD over in his hands, sniffing as he watched the light reflect off the plastic.

"Anna…. Thank you," he said, his voice cracking. "Thank you."

"Do you by any chance want to go for a walk?" Anna asked.

"You know what? Yeah, I think I do," Reg said pulling himself to his feet. "Let me put this inside," he said, opening the door and setting the CD down inside.

The afternoon air was cool as the two made their way onto the street and ambled along. It was quiet as they walked, and Anna played with the strap of her satchel, the heels of her boots scuffing against the pavement.

"How are Spencer and Deanna?" Anna asked. "Spencer was looking kind of rough last night."

"I didn't know he went to your place," he said, his brows furrowed.

"Guess he needed a friend," Anna shrugged.

"And that's all you are? Friends?"

"Yes," Anna said firmly.

"I see," Reg hummed. "Well, I think they're still processing it. Deanna—"

Glass shattered mere feet in front of them as two bodies crashed through the front window of Pete and Jessie's house. Rick and Pete stumbled over the lawn and fell into the street, a flurry of fists flying around them.

"No! Stop it!" Jessie shouted, sprinting for the men, only to have Pete throw his fist back, striking her in the cheek and sending her to the ground.

Anna rushed forward and pulled the woman away.

"Are you alright?" She asked, keeping her eyes on Rick as he forced Pete onto his back. Carl ran up and tried to pull Rick off but was shoved back.

"Stop it!" Deanna yelled, appearing beside Reg along with Spencer and several other Alexandrians. "Stop it right now," she demanded, out of breath.

"You touch them again and I'll kill you," Rick hissed, wrapping his arm around Pete's neck and squeezing until the man went limp.

"Damn it, Rick! I said stop," Deanna shouted

Tobin and Nicholas stepped forward to intervene before Rick pulled out a small black revolver, pulling the hammer back.

"Or what?" He challenged. "You gonna kick me out?"

"Put that gun down, Rick," Deanna instructed, her voice uneasy as she held her hands out submissively.

Anna tensed, her hand going to the knife at her hip. She only hoped she wouldn't have to use it. They were supposed to be a part of this community.

"You still don't get it. None of you do," Rick said, panting. "We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live," he said, looking around at the crowd. "You—you just sit and plan and hesitate. You pretend like you know when you don't. You wish things weren't what they are."

Anna's eyes flicked around the mass of frightened faces, then back to Rick as he continued.

"Well, you want to live? You want this place to stay standing? Your way of doing this is done. Things don't get better because you—you want them to," he explained. "Starting right now, we have to live in the _real_ world." Rick looked to Deanna. "We have to control who lives here."

"That's never been more clear to me than it is right now," Deanna said, her voice like stone.

"Me? Me?" Rick asked. "You—" he wheezed with laughter. "You mean—you mean me?" he asked, incredulous. "Your way is gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed. And I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen. If you don't fight, you die. I'm not gonna stand by—"

Rick suddenly crumpled to the ground as Michonne seemed to materialize behind him, slamming her fist into his head and effectively knocking him out. Anna deflated, her hand falling away from her knife.

_Fucking ninja._

_._

Rick was out the rest of the day and through the night, unconscious in the basement of one of the town houses with Michonne at his bedside. Tobin and two other Alexandrians decided to take it upon themselves to stand as armed guards outside. This made Anna uneasy, so she posted herself by the door, leaning against the wall as she idly twirled her knife in her hands. At some point, her brother decided to join her, two ceramic cups of coffee in hand.

"You look like you could use this," Jessie said, handing her one mug.

Anna accepted it gratefully, sheathing her knife before taking a slow sip. It burned her tongue but did its job. Jessie stood next to her, nursing his own cup.

"So Daryl left yesterday," Jessie said.

"Yeah."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I told him to think about what he wants," Anna sighed, before taking another sip of her coffee.

"Did you tell him you love him, yet?"

"Mhm."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. I asked him to just listen, and he did."

"What about him?" Jessie nodded towards the door. "Is he done losing his shit?"

"I hope so. For everyone's sake," Anna muttered.

Daybreak couldn't come soon enough as Anna stretched and twisted her back when she saw Glenn, Carol, and Abraham approaching.

"Is he awake?" Glenn asked, taking the steps down to her level, followed by the others.

"Don't know. We've been out here," Anna explained, casting a look at Tobin and his buddies, still lingering on the sidewalk, rifles slung over their shoulders.

"Well, let's head inside. Talk to him," Carol said, gesturing towards the door.

"I'll see you later," Jessie said, patting Anna on the shoulder. "Don't think I'll be much help here."

Anna nodded and turned, pushing the door open and leading the way inside the darkened room. Rick was sitting on a mattress on the floor, his back against the wall and an arm resting on his knee.

"Where'd you get the gun?" Michonne asked as they filed in.

"You took it, right? From the armory?" Carol asked. "That was stupid. Why did you do it?"

He said nothing for a moment, looking at Carol, and Anna could see the gears turning in his head.

"Just in case," he finally said.

Anna narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms over her chest, shifting on her feet as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Something was off, and she wasn't sure if she should say anything.

"Deanna's planning to have a meeting tonight. For anyone who wants to," Glenn said.

"To kick Rick out?" Abraham asked from where he stood in the doorway.

"To try," Carol clarified.

"We don't know that," Glenn insisted. "Maggie's with Deanna right now. She's gonna find out what it is."

"At the meeting," Carol started, "you say you were worried about someone being abused and no one was doing anything about it. You say you took a gun just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who wound up attacking you," she instructed. "You say you'll do whatever you want them to. Just tell them a story that they want to hear. It's what I've been doing since I got here."

"Why?" Michonne asked.

"Because these people are children and children like stories," Carol said evenly.

"What happens after all the nice words and they still try to kick him out?" Abraham asked.

"They're guarding the armory now," Glenn explained.

"We still have knives," Carol countered. "That's all we'll need against them."

"Well, tonight at the meeting, if it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you grab Reg," Rick said, looking to Anna. "Glenn and Abraham cover us, watch the crowd."

"What?" Anna scoffed.

"We can talk to them," Michonne insisted.

"Yeah, we will. If we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats."

"No," Anna snapped.

Rick looked at her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"We won't actually hurt them, Anna," he assured. "No, we just tell 'em that's what we're gonna do. They give us the armory and it's over."

"You say that now, but when it comes down to it—if they don't just give us the armory—you're just gonna give up? Let them go and leave?" She asked, growing more frustrated as her mind went through the scenarios. "That's not how it's going to work, and you know it. Don't bullshit me."

It was silent and tense for a long time before anyone spoke.

"Did you want this to happen?" Glenn asked.

"No," Rick groaned, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye. "I hit my limit. I—I screwed up," he threw his arms out to encompass the room. "And here we are. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna sleep some more," he said, lying down on his side facing away from them.

Anna huffed and turned on her heel, brushing past the others and out the door.

.

.

Daryl and Aaron made their way through the woods at an easy pace while Daryl kept his eyes on the ground, searching for a trail, when he spotted some footprints in the dirt.

"Somebody came through here a while ago," he deduced, seeing how dry the print was.

"If we see them, we hang back, set up the mic, watch and listen," Aaron explained, following Daryl as he headed in the direction of the tracks.

"For how long?" Daryl asked.

"Until we know," Aaron said. "We have to know."

"You've sent people away?" Daryl asked as he led the way across a narrow stream.

"Yeah," Aaron muttered.

"What happened?" He pushed.

"It was early on. It was three people," Aaron started. "Two men and a woman. Davidson was their leader. Smart as hell, strong. I thought they'd work out," he said. "They didn't. I brought them in and I had to see them out. So, me, Aiden, and Nicholas, we drove them out far, gave them a day's worth of food and water, and left them."

"They just went?" Daryl scoffed.

"We had their guns," Aaron said, uneasily. "We had all the guns." He stopped and Daryl turned to him. "I can't make that kind of mistake again."

Daryl thought for a moment, considering how such a mistake could affect them – how it could hurt them – and nodded before the two started walking again. He couldn't help but imagine the worst that could happen. Some group that wanted what Alexandria had; guns, supplies, walls. Some group like the men he'd been with before Terminus, that would hurt the people he cared about. The memory of Marley out on the catwalk surfaced in his mind.

"_It's just a shame you weren't there to save her from those men… They really did a number on her."_

He clenched his jaw.

"I take it you guys have met people like that."

"Yeah. A few."

"But not everyone is like that. I hope long after this is all over, people will listen to Anna's interviews with all of us and know that."

Daryl grunted and avoided looking at the other man.

"Speaking of Anna…" Aaron said slowly, "is there something going on with the two of you?"

"That's none of your business," Daryl said.

"Of course not, but… I just… I overhead the two of you in the garage and I couldn't help but wonder why you didn't say anything back."

Truth was, Daryl hadn't known what to say. It was the second time she had told him she loved him and he still couldn't believe it. He was certain that, given enough time and distance, her feelings would change.

"She told me to let her do the talking," Daryl grumbled finally; a sort of cop-out for having said nothing to her declaration.

"So you do love her?"

Before Daryl could snap at Aaron for being nosy, they came to a tree line and paused, eyes landing on a man walking in the middle of a field wearing a bright red rain poncho. Aaron pulled the mic out of his pack and put the headset on while Daryl pulled out his binoculars to get a better look.

"What's he doing?" Aaron asked as the man paused, bent down and wiped something on his face before continuing on.

"Wild leeks," Daryl explained. "Son of a bitch knows about how to keep mosquitoes off of him," he said, dropping the binoculars away from his face. "Come on," he said, nodding towards the man as he disappeared into the trees again.

.

"We checked the forest; we checked the roads. We can't find him. Sometimes they slip away. It happens," Aaron sighed. "But you don't come across something like this every day."

They had kept a distance from the man, watching and listening, until they lost sight of him. Daryl had tried to pick up his tracks again, but only managed to locate a fenced in truck depot, with walkers lingering around the loading docks.

"We do this now, it means we're giving up," Daryl said.

"Home is fifty miles back," Aaron countered. "It's time to go. You saw it last night, there's bad people out here," he said, referring to the woman they had found tied to a tree and gutted, a _W _carved into her forehead.

"That's why we ought to keep lookin' for the good ones," Daryl huffed.

"We need more people and we'll find them," Aaron assured. "But when we do, we'll need to feed them."

"Alright," Daryl said, sighing heavily as he pulled his knife and tapped it against the chain-link.

The two lured the walkers over to the fence and took them out one by one until they were clear. They made their way inside and headed for the dock.

"Whoa," Aaron called, chuckling as he knelt beside the back of one of the trucks before digging into his pack for a tool to take the license plate off. "Wasn't sure I'd ever see one of these."

Daryl grunted and started down the line of trucks.

"Hey, listen, I don't like giving up either, but the guy is in a red poncho. You can see him from a mile away. We've gone a lot of miles here. No sign of him. But if we come away with a trailer full of cans, I'd say that's a good trip," Aaron said, standing.

Daryl nodded, kneeling beside another truck as Aaron joined him.

"Here we go," Daryl said, pulling the latch loose to slide the back open.

There was a snap and a line of metal whizzed past his face as the doors of each truck rolled open. The walkers within snarled and reached for the two, stumbling out of the trucks. The men wasted no time in running, the dead on their tails.

Daryl drew his knife as they met a gathering of walkers in the open depot, plunging the blade into the nearest rotting skulls.

"Over here!" Aaron called as they were surrounded. He led the way under one of the trucks.

The walkers followed them under, leaving them no choice but to climb out the other side. Daryl grabbed a length of rusting chain and hollered for Aaron to follow him. Standing on the other side was a line of three walkers. Daryl adjusted the chain in his hands and whipped it across, slicing through their heads with ease – he was a little surprised that worked, but didn't trust it to happen a second time as he dropped the chain and picked up his crossbow.

They pushed their way to a blue mini-van and forced their way inside, the walkers surrounding them and slamming against the windows. Daryl panted, looking every which way around them to find that they were trapped.

"Glass will hold for a while, right?" Aaron asked, his voice trembling.

"Maybe," Daryl said, out of breath. "Maybe we can make it so they can't see us. In a couple hours, something will come by, they'll follow it out," he suggested. "There's got to be something in here we can use to block the view. We can cut up these seats."

Daryl leaned back and started tearing into the back seat when he noticed Aaron uncrumpling a piece of yellow paper. He read over the man's shoulder and furrowed his brow.

_TRAP. BAD PEOPLE COMING. DONT STAY_.

Daryl huffed, thinking how that could have been useful _before_ they walked into the depot. He looked around him again, trying to come up with some plan of escape, but only one thing came to mind, and he laughed.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"I came out here to not feel all closed up back there," Daryl started, relaxing into the seat. "Even now, this still feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?"

"You were trying."

"I had to," Daryl said. _"I try if you try." _But he had broken that promise, couldn't even tell her that he—

"No, you didn't," Aaron insisted. "Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own by the barn. Storm hit and you led your people to safety. That was it," he said. "I knew I had to bring you people back. You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. I shouldn't have given up. You didn't."

Daryl huffed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the last of the cigarettes—and the photo, the corners bent out of shape from its time in his pocket. He stared at the image of Anna curled up in an armchair, reading. He lit up the cigarette.

"I'll go. I'll lead them out," he said as he inhaled. "You make a break for the fence."

"No, no, no. This was my fault," Aaron insisted.

"It wasn't a question. And this ain't your decision. It ain't nobody's fault," Daryl sighed, pulling on the cigarette again. "Just let me finish my smoke first "When you make it back to Alexandria, give this to Anna; tell her I figured it out."

"No. You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence. We do it together. Alright? Whether we make it or not, we do it together. We have to. You have to make it back. You can tell Anna yourself."

Daryl looked at Aaron then at the burning end of the cigarette. All he could think about was how much he didn't want to die, how much he wanted to be in a comfortable bed with Anna, her soft skin under his fingertips, with her lips against his. But he knew the odds were stacked against them – Hell, even if Daryl sacrificed himself for Aaron, the man may not even make it.

They were going to die.

"Alright," Daryl nodded, finishing off his cigarette and throwing the bud on the floor before he pulled his knife. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Aaron said as the two readied themselves to open the van doors.

"We'll go on three," Daryl said. "One…" Daryl looked over his shoulder at Aaron, adjusting his grip on his knife. "Two—"

A walker's face slammed into the window with a loud squelch before falling away. The door ripped open and the two wasted no time in jumping out, making their way through the opening.

Daryl slashed and stabbed, making his way to the open gate after Aaron, followed by a stranger fighting with a walking stick.

"Come on," Daryl called, reaching for the gate as Aaron swung it shut. "Come on, get in here," he ordered the stranger.

The gate slammed shut and he wrapped a chain around it to keep it that way. They backed away from the gate as the walkers pushed up against it.

"That was—" Aaron started, out of breath. "Thank you. I'm Aaron, this is Daryl," he said, gesturing between them.

"Morgan."

"Why?" Daryl asked, sizing the man up.

"Why?" He asked, steadying himself on his walking stick. There was another walking stick poking out from over his shoulder. "Because all life is precious, Daryl."

"Whoever set that trap, they're coming," Aaron interjected. "But I have good news. We do. We have a community not too far from here. Walls, electricity, it's safe. If you'd like to come join us—"

"I thank you," Morgan interrupted. "But I'm on my way somewhere. Fact is, I'm lost, so if you could tell me where we are," he said, pulling a map from his pocket to show them.

Daryl stepped forward to see, his eyes scanning the black jagged line that led to D.C. and the note scrawled in the bottom corner.

_Sorry, I was an asshole. Come to Washington. The new world's gonna need Rick Grimes._


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was a little over an hour before the meeting and Anna had only one thing she needed to do before it commenced. She made her way through Rick's house in search of him, knowing he had to be somewhere within.

As she made her way down the upstairs hallway Michonne, came out of Carl's room, leaving the door cracked. The two met in the middle and sighed.

"He's gonna be okay," Michonne said.

"He will," Anna agreed. "He has to."

Michonne nodded and stepped around her, heading down the stairs and disappearing. Anna listened to the front door open and close before walking over to Carl's bedroom. Through the crack, she could see Rick sitting at the end of one of the twin beds, holding his red handled machete.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Hey," she greeted, sitting on the bed beside him.

"Hey," he said, his voice rough. "I heard Daryl's gone."

"Yeah."

"You alright?"

"I'm not here to talk about me."

Rick nodded, clearing his throat. Anna wondered if he had expected this conversation to happen. It was a conversation that needed to happen ever since the hospital.

"Bob—he told me I shouldn't let go of too much. That I'd be in a place like this and it wouldn't work if I did," Rick sighed, sheathing the machete.

"He was right," Anna said.

"Back at the prison, you and I—we tried to come back from everything. Do you still think we can?" He asked.

"I think we can get back to living," she said. "Really living, not just surviving." She twisted her bracelet around her wrist, running her thumb over the metal plate.

"I'm trying to make sure we can do that," Rick insisted.

"You're making sure we stay alive. But, out there—that's not living. And you're still out there, Rick," she said.

"We can't let our guard down."

"We've changed. All of us," Anna said. "It's not in us to let our guard down—not anymore. But these people aren't there yet. Aaron brought us here because he thought we could make Alexandria stronger, and we can—we will. But we can't do that by treating them like the enemy. The enemy is out there," she said, gesturing to the window where they had a good view of the front gate.

Rick tilted his head to peer out the window, his eyes narrowing.

"What the hell?" He said, jumping to his feet and crossing over to the window.

"What?" Anna squinted, and could see past him just enough to realize that the gate was open, and no one was standing guard.

She shot to her feet and the two bolted out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house. She did her best to control her breathing as they ran for the gate, panting as they came to a stop.

Rick leaned out of the gate, looking around before pulling a piece of rotting flesh off the lock. They looked to each other with grim expressions. Anna unsheathed her knife and they took off once again.

.

Anna could just hear the crackling of the fire and Tobin's voice as she and Rick walked toward the yellow glow illuminating Deanna's driveway.

"I just want to keep my family safe. You know?" Tobin said. "And I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means that we've got to get rid of—"

Rick and Anna stepped into view, blood splattered across their faces and a dead walker over Rick's shoulder. There were audible gasps as he threw the walker onto the ground in the middle of the circle the crowd had formed.

"There wasn't a guard on the gate," Rick said.

"It was open," Anna finished.

"I asked Gabriel to close it," Spencer stammered, looking to Deanna.

"Go," Deanna ordered, and Spencer took off.

Anna found Jessie's face in the dim light, and she took her place beside him while Rick stood facing the crowd.

"I didn't bring it in. It got inside on its own," Rick began, addressing everyone. "They always will—the dead and the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there – they'll hunt us. They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to kill us. But we'll kill them. We'll survive. I'll show you how," he said, looking to Reg and Deanna.

"You know, I was thinking—I was thinking how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives? But I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change." He cast a brief glance at Anna. "I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."

"You're not one of us."

Anna turned to see Pete approaching, Michonne's sword in hand. She tensed, her hand going to her knife.

"You're not one of us," he shouted.

Reg rushed forward, holding out his hand.

"Pete, you don't want to do this."

"Get the hell away from me, Reg," Pete snapped.

"Pete, just stop," Reg pleaded.

"Get away from me."

"Reg. Reg," Deanna said, a nervous tint to her voice.

"Get away," Pete warned.

"Now, Pete, stop. Pete—"

"Get away!" Pete pushed Reg back, the blade slashing across his neck, and a scream tore out of Deanna's throat as blood spilled out over his shirt. Abraham and Michonne surged forward to constrain Pete as Deanna rushed for her husband.

Anna watched as Reg choked on his blood in Deanna's arms.

"No, no! Oh, no, no!" She cried out.

"This is him," Pete shouted, his face pressed to the cold concrete under Abraham's hand.

"Shut up," Abraham snapped.

"This is him," Pete repeated. "It's him! This is him!"

Anna's hand trembled over her knife. There was nothing she could do but watch as Reg stilled and Deanna's sobs quieted. Deanna looked slowly up at Rick; her face twisted in grief.

"Rick," she said, "do it."

Without hesitation, Rick turned to Pete and in one fluid motion, pulled his gun, aimed, and put a bullet in the side of Pete's skull. The sound of the shot echoed and faded until all was silent. Jessie reached over and took Anna's hand from her knife, twining his fingers with hers.

"Rick?"

Anna looked up at the new voice, but she only glanced at the stranger before her attention shifted from him to Daryl, who stood at the man's left side. Her breath caught in her throat and she held Jessie's hand a little tighter.

.

Anna shut off the shower and dried off before pulling on clean clothes. She braced herself against the bathroom counter, bowing her head and closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. So much had happened in just the past month – let alone the past few hours – Anna was exhausted.

She brushed her hair, grimacing at the tangles as she went. It was time for another haircut. It was time for a fresh start in every aspect, for all of them. She set the hairbrush on the counter and left the en-suite.

She froze when she saw a figure standing in her room. Her body tensed, ready to fight, before she registered who it was. Daryl shifted uneasily on his feet when he saw her.

"Hey," Anna said, pushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear.

"Hey," Daryl echoed.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, walking over to the bedside table to fiddle with the dead iPod, her back to him.

"You told me to let you know when I figure out what I want."

She set the device down and turned to face him, ready to hear what he had to say – whether or not it was what she wanted.

"Back at the barn, when you told me you...loved me—"

"What?"

"After the storm. You were asleep, and you woke up and said that," he said with a frown.

"I… I thought that was a dream."

Daryl shook his head and let out a chuckle.

"Doesn't mean I didn't mean it, though," she added. "I do. I love you."

He looked away for a moment before speaking again.

"I didn't know how to deal with that. I'm still not sure I do," he admitted.

"But you're here."

"Yeah. 'Cause I love you, too. But I don't get why you feel that way about me."

Despite the pounding of her heart, Anna snorted.

"You think _I _know why? You're a grouch, you can be an asshole sometimes, and also, you snore," she said, stepping toward him.

"You don't need me," he said quietly. "You can take care of yourself."

"It's not about me _needing_ you, Daryl. I _want_ you," she said, moving into his space.

To her relief, he folded her into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers lacing into his hair. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"I want you, too," he said, his voice low.

"Kiss me," she demanded quietly.

His lips crashed against hers, their bodies flush against each other as their mouths moved together. Her heart fluttered in her chest with excitement. She untangled her fingers from his hair and brought her hands down to his chest and pushed him back, breaking their kiss.

"Go shower," Anna instructed him breathlessly, steering him toward the bathroom. "You smell like a dead animal."

"But I don't have any clean clothes," he protested.

"That's okay, you won't need them," she assured, smirking. "Use soap," she said, as he turned to look back at her in confusion. Realization seemed to dawn on him and his eyes darkened. He stopped fighting her and shut the door.

A minute later she heard the shower turn on and she made herself comfortable on the bed, sitting cross legged as she tried to calm her nerves. A light in her peripheral caught her eye and she tilted her head to see the iPod starting screen.

.

.

.

The story continues in..._ Deep Water_


End file.
